


Stronger than Chains

by Tanbinokami



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bi Fenris, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Dorian Pavus is a Good Friend, Dorian is a good teacher, F/M, Fenris has no time to become a mage hater, Fenris has to learn a lot, Fenris is less grumpy, First Kiss, Fluff, It's not easy to not be a slave, M/M, Minor Character Death, More Fluff, Romance, Slavery, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, They will get together eventually - I promise, brief Fenris/f!OC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-02-07 13:45:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 27,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12842448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tanbinokami/pseuds/Tanbinokami
Summary: pre-Dragon Age 2 AU. Fenris ends up with the fog worriors and his time there turns out differently because he's joined by another Tevinter mage. Together they try to overcome their past.





	1. Seheron

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can listen to an audio recording of the chapter [HERE](https://soundcloud.com/user-644092628/stronger-than-chains_chapter01)  
>  

Fenris liked being away from the Danarius estate, travelling with his master.

It always meant he got to see new places and more importantly he had Master Danarius' full attention during those days. Usually only a few other slaves and some soldiers would accompany him. But travelling also meant more danger so Fenris was kept close to his master at all times.

Fenris rather enjoyed the potential threats around every corner because it meant he could fully show off his abilities and was not just mere decoration but actively protecting his master from any harm.

He would not hope for anything more than his masters attention and approval and since on travels he had more opportunities to prove his worth Danarius would give him kind words or even stroke his hair more often in reward for his loyal service.

Fenris was not fond of their current destination, Seheron, nor the Qunari who made out a major part of the population. He hated them just like any other Tevinter. But the best thing about this trip was that Hadriana was not with them, so for the time being he would be out if her reach and cruelty.

Although he would never dare to complain he loathed Hadriana and would much rather take on 20 heavily armed Qunari alone than getting tortured by Master Danarius' apprentice. At least in a fight he could hit back.

He regretted this thought in the next moment as what felt like a small army of Qunari closed in on them from all sides, every single one of them armed to the teeth.

A few yards away the fight had already started between another Tevinter and the Qunari. Without hesitation Fenris grabbed his sword, his markings glowing at the prospect of fighting.

The only thing his mind was focused on was keeping his master safe. He jumped in front of the magister and after two blocked strikes plunged his large two-hander right into the heart of the attacking Qunari warrior.

Another blow from the side aimed at his master was easily deflected but three more of their enemies were already gaining ground, slaughtering Master Danarius' soldiers.

The magisters magic pulled heavily at his markings as the fight continued, increasing the intensity of his spells. Corpses for allies and foes already started to litter the ground and the streets of Seheron turned into a brutal battle ground.

Soon the smell of fresh blood hung heavily in the air and his Master made good use of the so abundantly available red liquid for this spells. Sweat was pearling from Fenris' brow, his bangs sticking to his forehead as he fought off attack after attack directed at his master.

Even the magister himself started to struggle against the sheer overwhelming amount of Qunari. Fenris wasn't sure what had started this fight but as far as he his eyes could see all corners of the city were engaged in the bloodshed.

It was soon clear that the Tevinter were clearly outnumbered and only retreat would safe them. No matter how many Qunari Fenris killed, there seemed to be no end to them.

Fenris had already received a deep cut in his left arm from a blow that had been meant for Master Danarius.

„Master, the ship!“ Fenris called out as he saw no other way to escape and save his master. He would probably be punished for his actions later, daring to make such a suggestion.

Fenris spun around plunging his ghost-like fist into the chest of another Qunari, ripping out his heart and crushing it in his hand. The warrior sunk lifeless to the ground in front of Master Danarius' feet. The enemy's final blow had missed the magister just by an inch.

The sickly sweet smell of burning flesh filled the air as Master Danarius sent out a powerful inferno to set their enemies on fire, not caring that also one of this other slaves had been caught in the flames. Fenris gave it no second thought and continued to defend his master.

Master Danarius' constant pull on his lyrium was tiring the elf but Fenris did not slow down and was determined to fight to his last breath if it meant saving his masters life. He would make sure to get him out of this.

Inch by inch he cut a path for them through the ranks of their enemies towards the city's harbour where a Tevinter ship was preparing to leave. A brief cry left Fenris' throat more out of surprise than pain as an arrow pierced right through his leg but he bit back the pain and continued.

He could only make out a handful of allied mages and soldiers still standing as they continued their bloody path towards the ship. They had to hurry if they wanted to make it out alive.

Fenris mobilised all the strength he had left to reach the ship before it was too late. He bit his lip as he noticed blood on his master's shoulder, his richly decorated black robes cut, exposing the broken flesh beneath.

For a second Fenris wished to take off the collar around his neck and the heavy iron chain attached to it, so it wouldn't get in the way or slow him down. Then again he was glad to have it as the chain blocked a blow that would otherwise had meant a Qunari blade deep in his guts.

Instead of letting the chain slow him down, he used it to his advantages. Maybe he could not knock out a Qunari warrior with it if he used it as a whip but he still could deal out painful slaps with the chain. The next enemy Fenris approached from the back and wrapped the chain tightly around the large man's neck, strangling him before he ripped out his heart.

And then Master Danarius finally set foot on the plank to the ship that would carry them to safety. Fenris remained and fought of any Qunari that tried to follow them until he was sure that his master was on board.

Fenris received another blow to his side. He had not seen the attacker due to the blood running from his forehead into his right eye, blurring his vision. Fenris spun around and struck down the Qunari who had inquired him.

Just as the ship tightly packed with Tevinters was starting to move, the elf stepped onto the plank and leaped on board before he cut the plank in half and sent another Qunari in pursuit into the waters of the harbour.

Fenris took a deep breath of relief. They had made their escape in the last second and now the ship was leaving the fighting city behind them.

On deck people where packed tightly together, a cacophony of shouts and screams in Tevine surrounded them.

Fenris stood pressed against his master and watched the Qunari getting smaller in the distance as the ship turned to leave the bay. 

Not far from them a man who looked too wounded to make it through the night was pushed of the ship by his fellow countrymen to make more room and get rid of expandable weight on board. It was almost like the fight continued on board as no one wanted to risk the ship to sink and it was every man for himself.

But all Fenris cared about was that his master was safe. No one would dare to push a high ranking magister like him over board. He would make sure of that. 

Fenris head was throbbing and now that the fight was over he could feel the pain from all his wounds spreading through his body. But Fenris could wait. He could take care of his injuries once they were back in Minrathous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my own sanity and to give those of you who want to place my story in the Dragon Age timeline a better understanding, this fic begins around Frumentum 2024TE (Harvestmere [10th month] in 9:30 Dragon - the year when the 5th Blight started).  
> I am not planning to tie this story too close to the in-game events, but rather to background stories and places people might be less familiar with.  
> If you are not too bothered with connections, please feel free to just read the story without worrying about the timeline ;)  
> Should I decide to use dates later on in the story, they will be in Tevinter format, like the first date given above, as Fenris & Dorian are vints.


	2. The Strange Mage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A handsome mage acts suspiciously. What is he up to?

The ship had barely left the bay when Fenris noticed a young man staring at him and his master. Fenris thought the well tanned man could be a young magister, but he wore an expression that Fenris could not fully read. Maybe a rival of Master Danarius? Whatever it was, Fenris was sure the man had something on his mind as he was watching them.

Despite the signs of the most recent fight the man looked rather well groomed. His black hair was just long enough to be tied back into a short ponytail while the hair around his ears and neck was cleanly shaven short. He had bright eyes, a distinct beauty spot next to his eye adorned his right cheekbone and a carefully styled moustache decorated his rather handsome face.

Fenris could not recall having seen him before and from the state of his clothes he was sure the man had been fighting the Qunari, capable of protecting himself, most likely with magic.

The man's eyes darted away when he noticed Fenris was returning his stare, as if he had been caught. But soon the man's gaze returned just as quickly to Fenris and his master even if only for split seconds at a time.

Fenris was sure the stranger was plotting something. Maybe he was a Viddathari posing as Tevinter to assassinate someone? No, the Qunari hated mages and this man reeked of magic. Fenris could feel it in his markings.

As soon as Fenris pretended to return his full attention to his master, he could feel the young man's eyes on them again. Watching him out of the corner of his eyes he could see the mage was inching closer to them, slowly squeezing through the crowd, but careful not to arise any suspicion.

But Fenris was already on alert. He turned to Master Danarius who was in a heated discussion with another man. There was no way he could interrupt him for a warning so Fenris decided to keep an eye on the suspicious looking young mage.

“There is no room on this ship for slaves!” the man arguing with Master Danarius shouted.

Fenris had almost forgotten how little room there was on the ship, but he trusted his master and knew how much he was worth. Master Danarius would not leave him behind.

Due to the distraction Fenris had lost sight of the black haired stranger for a moment and when he spotted him again he knew they were still being watched.

“Get off, scum!” another voice called from behind him as four or six strong arms grabbed him and threw the struggling elf over board.

With a splash Fenris landed in the warm water, the taste of salt filling his mouth. His eyes grew wide in shock as the elf realised there was no solid ground under his feet.

“Master!” he called out, suddenly more frightened than he had ever been as he struggled to keep his head above the waves.

He could just about make out Master Danarius' face among the people on the ship. His arms and legs were desperately flung about in search for something – anything to hold onto.

Fenris gasped for air, the quick and short, paniced gulps of breath never quite enough to fill his lungs sufficiently as his feet hopelessly searched for ground.

“Mas- grh!” he tried again to call for Master Danarius, his hand stretched out, before the waves cut off his calls of despair and the salty water filled his mouth.

His lungs struggled and he tried to cough up the water but his short breaths made it nearly impossible and his wildly splashing arms could never keep him above water long enough until the waves finally claimed his head for good. The chain around his neck was ever pulling him further down into the deep water.

Just as darkness started to claim him he felt a pair of strong arms wrap around his torso to pull him back up to the light.

Master Danarius had come after all for him.

“Stay calm. Breath.” a voice ordered and Fenris tried, but the water in his lungs was too much. Still unable to feel any ground under his feet, his breath remained shallow, if he could managed to breath at all and he had no strength left to take in anything that was happening around him.

In the end the darkness had taken him and he did not know how he ended up on the shore.

When Fenris opened his eyes again a face almost too close above his own appeared in his blurry vision.

'Master Danarius!' was Fenris first thought, but there was no sight of the familiar grey beard of his master. Instead he could make out a black moustache. He knew the face, but he couldn't quite place it for a moment

Fenris coughed, spitting out all the water he had swallowed. His stomach felt sick but a gentle hand supported his back until he was finally able to breath normally again. He noticed the salt stinging in his wounds and when he tried to grab the injury on his side, he only found the man's hand, pressing a strip of wet cloth against it to stop the bleeding.

“You!” Fenris exclaimed in shock when his eyes focused enough to recognise the face. It belonged to the man he had seen staring at them on the ship.

Despite his pain and temporary weakness Fenris tried to get some distance between them.

“What have you done to Master Danarius?” Fenris hissed, his markings glowing.

The young mage raised his hands in defence. “I don't know your master. But he is gone. The ship is gone. He would have let you drown back there.” the stranger said.

“No! You are lying! What are you plotting?” Fenris demanded before he had to cough again.

“Plotting?” The mage sounded bewildered and then chuckled amused. “I was only on the ship to get away from that mad fight, like everyone else.”

“Then why... ugnn... why were you watching my master.” Fenris asked, clutching his side in pain. Despite his current state he was prepared to attack the man at any wrong movement or word and gritted his teeth to deal with the stinging pain of his wounds.

“I don't even know which one your master was. I was just...” the stranger started and then looked aside with what looked like a blush on his cheeks.

“Just want?” Fenris barked.

“You are unique. That caught my interest.” the young man concluded.

His markings. Of course, it was always about his markings...

“Look, we can discuss this later but your wounds need treatment and I am no healer.” the man said before Fenris could say more about thar topic.

“So you can claim me as my new master? I will serve no other! Master Danarius will come back for me.”

To his surprise the mage just smiled softly. A smile Fenris had never seen anyone to direct at himself.

“Once your wounds have healed you are free to go anywhere you want.” the man said. “But first let me take care of you. Let me take this off.” The stranger had placed his hand on Fenris' neck, brushing his fingers along the collar and heavy chain on it.

The collar had been attached by magic and no matter how strong Fenris was, he would never be able to take it off himself. Not that he wanted it off. Master Danarius had given it to him a long time ago. He had gently caressed his neck when he had put it on, telling him what a good pet he was, when he had closed the collar. He would let no stranger take it from him.

“This is mine!” Fenris growled, ripping the chain out of the mages hand and wrapping his fist tightly around the iron as he leaned away from him.

The man sighed, looking almost sad for a reason Fenris did not understand.

“Fine. Keep it if you want, but let me treat your wounds.”

Fenris still glared at him, but when he mage started ripping stripes of cloth from his expensive looking robes to dress his wounds, the elf was too confused to fight him off. Why would a mage willingly sacrifice his robes for a slave?

Fenris watched him in silence.

“Can you walk?” the man asked, holding out his hand to help Fenris up.

The elf just grunted and ignored the hand as he struggled to get to his feet and somehow managed it.

“I'm Dorian.” the man said.

Fenris continued to ignore him. He would not kneel down to kiss his knuckles.

“And your name is?” Fenris just glared at him and remained silent. Then he tried to make a few steps although he had no idea where he would go.

Dorian followed him slowly. “You can tell me your name later, if you want.” There was that smile again. Fenris would have guessed it was empathy if it weren't directed at an elf.

“We should find some water, so you can drink and wash your wounds.”

Fenris stumbled onwards. He had no intention in remaining with this mage, but he had also no other plan or idea where to go and when Dorian suggested a direction, Fenris found himself following.

Even if it wasn't Master Danarius, there was a strange feeling of comfort in following his lead.

Fenris tried to bite back the pain as they stumbled slowly onwards into the Seheron jungle. He would not allow to show how weak he actually felt as they pressed on in silence until Fenris foot got caught in a root and made him fall over, face first into the green under-brush.

Fenris tried to get back up but his feet refused to carry him any further. Reluctantly he let Dorian support his weight but only a few yards further a thick fog suddenly started to engulf them and made it impossible to navigate.

Dorian let him sit and knelt down next to Fenris as he conjured an magic barrier. It was just a weak one since he had no staff but at least they had some protection.

Until then Fenris hadn't even realised that his sword must have sunken to the bottom of the sea, since he was no longer carrying it.

Fenris tensed when he heard footsteps closing in, quietly sneaking up on them from all directions. He was exhausted and in pain, yet his markings flared faintly blue and he prepared himself to fight.

He exchanged brief glances with Dorian when his elvhen ears picked up whispers, but by the time he could make out a potential target it was already too late to attack because countless tips of spears where pointing at them from all directions and a second later both of them had a dagger on their throat. Even with their skills in their current condition there was no way they could take on their opponents.

Dorian raised his hands to signal their surrender.

“Is this your master?” a voice asked and the dagger on Dorian's throat was pressing into the flesh almost drawing blood.

“No.” Fenris replied.

“But he's a mage and you rather look like a slave. Did he capture you then?”

Fenris looked at them bewildered. Why were they addressing him and not Dorian? They didn't look elvhen, yet they would take an elfs word over that of a mage?

“He saved me from drowning. I do not know what he wants.” Fenris finally replied and the dagger on his throat was lowered.

“Speak, mage!” another demanded. Dorian seemed just as confused as Fenris.

“I... I just wanted to leave Tevinter.” he tried to explain. “When I saw he couldn't swim, I jumped since his master had send no one.”

“Why leave Tevinter?”

“I want nothing more to do with the Imperium.” he said, trying to get more room to breath without a dagger in his throat. “I left for a new start or to find a way to make Tevinter more... liberal.”

Fenris stared at him. Liberal? What? What kind of mage was this? The warriors in the fog seemed to be pleased enough with their answers.

“Just don't try anything funny.” a man warned them as their were released and the daggers sheathed again. The man was tall, maybe in his forties with wild salt and pepper hair and stubbles on his chin. His piercing eyes were dark blue and he had a rather deep scar along his cheek and missed a piece of his ear. For his age the man was a lot slimmer and better build than Master Danarius, but once his interrogating stare was gone, his face had rather warm features.

“Do you have water and maybe herbs? The elf is wounded and needs treatment.” Dorian asked rather bravely.

The warriors exchanged glances and the man that had spoken before nodded. “You will come with us.” he decided as they were handed two water-skins.

Fenris drank eagerly, his mouth still salty and dry but Dorian only took a sip and then stepped closer to Fenris. Pouring some water into his palm he started to wash the blood of Fenris' forehead and then loosened the bandages to clean the larger wounds on his side, arm and leg before he tied the black cloths back around the wounds.

His injuries itched less now, although he could still feel the salt in his bandages. Fenris still felt too weak to protest about the mages treatment and could not understand what Dorian possibly hoped to achieve with his actions.

In the meantime the fog around them had lifted and once Dorian had finished, they followed the warriors as fast as they could manage. Both of them remained silent until this had reached some sort of small settlement in the middle of the jungle.

Fenris had no clue where exactly they were, nor was he sure if he would ever be able to leave again. They were directed to sit next to a burning fire and Fenris was grateful he could finally rest.

“Fenris.” the elf murmured quietly facing the mage but not daring to look up into his eyes. Dorian just looked at him with confusion.

“My name. It's Fenris.” he clarified and Dorian smiled. It was a warm smile that made the tips of Fenris' ears grow hot, but Dorian said nothing and then just turned back towards the fire, leaving Fenris with an unknown and strange feeling in his stomach.


	3. The Taste of Freedom

After a brief rest Fenris' wounds had been tended to properly. He was given a healing potion and a salve with a pleasant smell was gently rubbed on his wounds. His blood and salt water soaked bandages had been replaced with fresh ones.

Fenris could not understand why those strangers would all care so much for him and noticed that Dorian had also received treatment for wounds Fenris had not noticed before.

A young and slender girl approached them. She had wavy, strawberry blonde hair that was beautifully braided but a few strands around her forehead had escaped. When she pushed a bowl of soup into Fenris' hands, he noticed she had the same dark blue eyes as the man from earlier.

“Eat.” the girl said sweetly and a soft smile curled her lips but Fenris just looked at her. Then another woman gave them bread with some sort of vegetable spread and herbs on them. It filled the air with a delicious smell that made Fenris' stomach growl and the young girl chuckled.

“Eat.” the girl repeated, smiling at Fenris and then left them to it.

Once she was gone Fenris almost wolfed down his food. The taste was much richer than he was used to but he was too hungry to enjoy his meal properly.

Fenris could feel the mage's gaze on him as he ate, but his training told him to keep his eyes lowered. Even less would he dare to speak to Dorian, not that he had anything in particular to say anyway.

Absent-mindedly Fenris fondled the chain around his neck while he ate the rest of his bread. Was Master Danarius safe and back in Minrathous now? Did he miss him? Would he come back for him? His master had always cared for him, more than for any other of his slaves. Surely he would not just abandon him out here. He would come and find him.

When they both had finished their meal, the man with the salt and pepper hair came to join them at the fire to inquire about their well-being.

“Thank you for your kind care, my lord.” Fenris said bowing deeply until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Please, my friend.” he said with a gently voice. “There is no need for such formalities. As long as you are here, you will be an equal.”

Fenris slowly dared to look up at him. “You are both welcome to stay with us if that is what you want.” the man offered. “I am what you might call the leader of the fog warriors here. You can call me Luven.” he said.

Fenris looked in his direction, trying to take in his words. Equal? Free to stay? If he remained in one place it might be easier for Master Danarius to come and find him. Or should he go and look for a way back as soon as he had enough strength?

The silence made Fenris aware that he was waiting for his answer, but decisions were clearly not his strength since he rarely needed to make any on his own if it wasn't about a fight. His master would make all decisions for him, but he wasn't here right now.

Unsure what to do he looked to Dorian for help and the young man just smiled softly back at him and gave him an encouraging nod.

“I'll stay... at least until my wounds have healed.” Fenris finally answered with a slightly shaky voice and bowed again. He would not make any promise to stay for longer.

“I will stay, too. Thank you for your kindness.” Dorian added and then introduced their names to the leader. He hoped Fenris didn't mind this but the elf did not speak up, so he assumed this was alright.

Then the girl with the strawberry blonde hair returned. “Father, the tent has been prepared for our guests.” she said quietly and Fenris risked another glance at her. He found she looked almost like an elf, yet she was human like her father.

Luven nodded and with a warm smile the girl asked them to follow. Fenris had never seen so many smiles in one day, at least no smiles of such an honest nature.

Dorian entered the tent first and Fenris followed him. His limbs ached as he took of his jerkin and then lay down on the prepared bed. He didn't mean to watch the mage undress but the small tent didn't offer much room for privacy and Fenris found with those looks Dorian didn't really have anything to hide anyway. He was young and handsome and unlike his master he had well defined muscles. Master Danarius would probably have beaten him for that thought.

Despite his exhaustion Fenris found it hard to fall asleep, so he just lay there in silence until the mage turned to face him, apparently having similar problems.

“Why do you want to keep the chain?” Dorian asked with a whisper.

“Because my master gave it to me.” Fenris answered promptly.

“Surely not very practical...” Dorian commented and propped his arm on his elbow, resting his chin in his palm as he watched Fenris.

“He can keep me close that way.” Fenris tried to explain but then noticed how stupid his statement was in his current situation. He had never been further away from his master and what good was the chain now.

And there was this soft smile of Dorian's again.

Fenris bit his lip. He had never met a mage like Dorian before. He wanted to understand why he was so different but did not dare to address him.

“Anything you want to ask?” Dorian offered and his lips curled even further.

“Are you... no magister?” Fenris asked shyly.

“No. I am an Altus. I don't think I'll ever become a magister... or want to be one for that matter. I'm not sure anyone would want a magister who jumps into the sea to rescue a handsome elf.” he chuckled.

A slight blush rose to Fenris' cheeks at the remark and he fell silent. Handsome? He?

Fenris turned on his back trying to sleep but the chain lay heavily on his chest, the cold metal pressing against his skin. Master Danarius would usually take it off for him during the night if he had been good. But then again he had not been good enough today or he would be with his master now. He deserved the punishment to carry the chain during the night.

He knew he could have asked Dorian to remove it for him, but he would not dare to make such a request.

Fenris turned again, making the chain jingle as he tried to find a more comfortable position.

“Do you always sleep like that?” Dorian asked. “If you continue moving around I would much rather prefer you didn't have this blasted chain.”

Fenris gulped, feeling as if he had just annoyed his master and braced himself for a beating that never came.

Instead he suddenly felt the mage's warm breath against his ear. “Let me take it off at least during the night.” Dorian whispered and his voice sent a pleasant shiver down his spine.

“Could you... leave the collar when you take the chain?” Fenris asked, his voice barely audible.

A bright smile curled on Dorian's lips and the mage nodded eagerly, sitting up. It was only a simple, yet enchanted mechanism. The magic from Dorian's fingers made his markings tingle in a softer and more pleasant way than Master Danarius'.

Dorians fingers briefly brushed the skin on his neck and then the heavy weight was gone and the mage placed the chain neatly next to Fenris' jerkin. 

“Maker, I could not imagine wearing this every day. No wonder you are so strong.” he said and winked at Fenris, making the elf blush once more. “And now you should get some rest to let your wounds heal properly.” Dorian whispered and let his fingers brush through Fenris hair before he noticed what he was doing and quickly pulled back his hand.

Fenris didn't know how he had earned such a reward but he enjoyed the affection, even if it was not his master who granted it to him. Maybe it had been for the removed chain? Dorian had seemed annoyed by it after all.

The elf curled himself into a little ball, trying to occupy as little room as possible and soon the exhaustion of the day finally claimed him and he fell into a deep sleep without further worries about the most recent events.

\---  
During the next days Fenris recovered quickly from his injuries. He had not been given any other tasks, neither by Dorian nor by Luven or his men. His only orders had been to relax and heal. The fog warriors and even Dorian continued to treat him as if he were one of them and always had been.

At the beginning Fenris had missed his Master greatly. Being without him was a frightening thought but whenever he had felt too lost Dorian had been a reliable replacement without ever making demands of him in return. 

The mage and the fog warriors always had some gentle words for him, offered him brief touches and warm smiles and no hard work had been required from him to earn any of this. Everyone gave their affection freely and bit by bit he understood that his life with Danarius had not been as glorious and great as he had always believed.

Fenris soon learned that they were all treating each-other with kindness and only their enemies had to fear them.

Was that what freedom was like?

There were few other mages among the fog warriors and none of them seem to be as talented and well educated as Dorian. He often spend time with them to teach what he knew and in return he learned their spells. They had also gifted him a new staff.

Once Fenris felt strong enough, he also desired to train with their warriors. They had given him a sword to use. It had been smaller than his previous one but was more suitable for their techniques.

After the third night here Fenris had stopped requesting the chain to be put on again. Dorian would ask him in the evening to take it off but never offered in the morning to put it back on, so he did not even wear the chain during the days any more.

As the days went past Danarius occupied his thoughts less and less and only when he happened to touch his collar did he remember where he actually belonged.

Three weeks he had trained with the fog warriors when he joined them on their first fight. Locating their targets in the thick fog wasn't easy at first but soon he found his way around and after a while got used to being part of a team instead of a lone warrior and bodyguard.

He and Dorian had been a welcome addition to their forces and victory came almost easily. Fenris was impressed how efficient the team worked together and was glad that when the fog warriors had found them, they had not just been attacked and killed.

In celebration of their success the group had a little feast together and everyone was in a merry mood.

Fenris had never been actively part of celebrations. Of course he had attended many balls and festivities with Danarius but only to be presented there, to protect his master, to make impressions, give displays of his skills or spy on Danarius' rivals. Never had he been there simply to enjoy the occasion and much less had he ever been to anything so informal.

He had barely finished his meal when Luven's daughter Nithala had pulled him to his feet to dance with her. Holding his hand, she was laughing happily as they danced around the fire. Fenris loved her warm smiles and untroubled laughter. He had no idea what he was doing, but being so close to her made his heart beat faster.

Fenris tried his best to follow her lead but more than once he accidentally had stepped on her feet and apologised for being so clumsy. And every time she had just chuckled and continued spinning around the fire with him.

Even 4 songs later Fenris still struggled to understand her dance, but there simply seemed to be no clear pattern or steps to follow and when ever he thought he had grasped what she was doing, she seemed to change her dance as she skipped and swayed and spun and jumped her carefree dance. Everything just seemed so chaotic that he was about to give up.

“Care for a more Tevene dance?” a warm and well known voice asked. The hand that was gently placed on his shoulder turned out to be indeed Dorians. Fenris nodded rather desperately. As much as he enjoyed Nithala's company, he did not understand her dancing.

Dorian whispered an excuse into the girls ear to steal her dance partner and then took Fenris' hand. It felt much warmer in his hand. Fenris let him lead and shyly placed his other hand on the man's shoulder. He didn't care how out of place their formal dance was out here and Dorian didn't seem to mind it either.

Fenris had never danced with a man before but quickly found himself enjoying the dance more than his previous attempts or any other dance he could remember.

For the first time he did not feel ashamed or like breaking any rules when he looked into the mages eyes. Even now in the warm light of the fire and so close to him he found it hard to tell what exact colour his eyes were. It was a wonderful warm shade of grey he had not seen in anyone’s eyes before, or maybe he simply had never had the chance to be so close with anyone before. Danarius' eyes were grey but they had never seemed that warm.

Dorian kept him close, his hand on Fenris' hip while the fog warriors seemed to dance to a different tune around them. When the mage noticed how much Fenris seemed to enjoy himself, his bewitching smile returned to his lips.

Fenris heart was thumping madly as the mage pulled his hips closer for the dance and Fenris let him, returning a shy smile.

They continued their dance a little slower now, until they were too exhausted for more and sat back down for a drink.

“Why would you dance with a slave?” Fenris asked shyly, staring at his bare feet.

Dorian's thumb brushed across his cheek to make him look up.

“You are not slave to me, Fenris. Have you forgotten that we are all equals here?” Dorian's smile looked a little sad.

It was true that Fenris had now tasted what freedom was like, but that didn't change who and what he was. He still remained a slave. He belonged to Master Danarius and his collar reminded him of his true place in this world. He ought to be looking for his master instead of wasting his time here dancing.

Fenris ran his fingers across the leather of his collar and the brand of Danarius' seal on it.

“My offer to remove it still stands, you know?” Dorian reminded him.

“NO!” Fenris replied a lot louder than he had intended and quickly stood to leave for their tent.

Maybe Dorian could simply leave his old life behind, but they were not the same. Fenris had not left his master willingly. Dorian would never understand.

“What upset you so, my friend?” Luven suddenly asked and placed a hand on Fenris shoulder to stop him.

Fenris hesitated. He was not sure how he could explain this to anyone. He shouldn't be here. “My past.” he finally replied to give some answer at all.

“Some things can be hard to let go.” Luven said with a fatherly smile and let him to a place further away from the fire where they could sit undisturbed.

“Did you love your master?” Luven asked.

“Love?” Fenris did not understand. He had never been taught the concept of love. He had his loyalty for his master. Was that not enough? “He's my master.” he simply replied.

“I mean, did he treat you well? Did he treat you the way Dorian does? Like I do?” he tried to clarify.

Fenris bit his lip and shook his head. He felt like he was betraying his master. He had never thought about him this way. Master Danarius had punished him for the smallest mistakes. He had been beaten, starved and when Hadriana was around even been tortured, but he had always thought that it had been necessary because he had done something wrong. He had never even imagined that there was any other possible way for him to live.

“We all have our reasons to be here and to fight for our freedom, free from the Imperium and the Qun. If it is your wish Fenris, you can stay with us and never go back. We would miss you greatly.”

Fenris was at a loss for words.

Luven patted the elf's shoulder. “Believe me, I know it is hard to leave a life like your's behind, but it is not impossible. My wife was a slave in Tevinter once, an elf like you. She had been longing to go back to her master and was looking for orders, for someone to rule her life. She enjoyed her freedom with me, but making decision and not depending on a master was hard for her. It was not until our daughter was born that she finally saw that freedom is something worth fighting for. Your life is your own, Fenris. Freedom is not always easy, but no one should ever rule another's life. One day, you will understand.”

Fenris tried to take in everything that Luven had just told him, but his mind didn't made it beyond the fact that a honourable man like him had loved and wedded an elf, a slave. He did not dare to ask what had happened to her. They sat long in silence before Fenris spoke again.

“But don't you give orders to your warriors, too?” Fenris was unable to see the difference.

“I do, but their life is theirs. They chose to follow me because they trust that I make the best decisions, but we still discuss and they are free to act on their own if they think they know better, just as I am willing to take another man's advise or admit my mistakes. No one is perfect, Fenris, least of all me, yet they trust me.” Luven smiled warmly.  
“I've probably said enough for today. Think about my words. I know you are back to full health now, but you are more than welcome to stay as long as you wish.”

With that he gave Fenris' shoulder a fond squeeze and left him to give the elf time to think.


	4. Deep Water

Since Fenris and Dorian were still relatively new to the fog warriors, tasks like hunting for food often was among their responsibilities to train and test their skills together with the younger members of the tribe. In the past 4 months they had both learned new skills and strategies until navigating through the fog was no longer any problem for them.

Still hunting in the jungle could be an exhausting task and once they had all the meat they needed to keep everyone well fed, Dorian would usually insist on a bath to wash off the sweat, camouflage paint and the blood of the slain beasts.

There was a lake with clear water near the settlement, protected by a tall cliff on one end and surrounded by lush greens around the shore. The first time Dorian had found this little paradise, Fenris had followed him to the lake out of habit of following a mage.

While Dorian undressed and enjoyed a refreshing bath, Fenris had just sat at the shore to stand watch.

After the next hunt Dorian had convinced him that they were safe here and waited so long, standing naked in the water until Fenris would join him. Fenris felt uneasy to share the same body of water with the mage, as if his mere presence would make it unclean, but he had followed his request.

Soon Fenris had come to enjoy their little bathing ritual. Every time they went for a hunt he had found himself looking forward to bathe with Dorian in the lake. He had come to understand that in fact it was his own choice to join him in the water and he found actual joy in this, but part of the joy was watching the mage having fun.

When they were bathing, Fenris would never go deeper than having the water reach his hips. There he would sometimes just sit for a while, watching Dorian float and swim around the deeper water.

Fenris had believed it was magic that kept him from drowning, yet he could never feel him use any.

Just imagining to feel no ground under his feet again sent shivers through the elf's spine, but Dorian always seemed to enjoy himself.

Today however, Dorian had remained in the shallow water with him and simply washed off the dirt, his eyes darting to Fenris over and over again.

“Are you not going to swim?” Fenris asked, sounding almost disappointed because he liked watching him.

Dorian shook his head, the uncurled ends of his moustache always making him look a little ridiculous. “Today I want to teach you.”

Fenris froze. Under Danarius these words always meant pain. To be taught meant to be punished for something he had done wrong so he would not repeat his mistakes.

Dorian only thought Fenris was afraid of the deep water due to nearly drowning and gently placed his arm around the elf's shoulder. “I'll be here for you, Fenris. Do you trust me?”

Fenris looked up at him. Trust. He still wasn't sure he fully understood what this word actually meant, but found himself nodding before he could worry any further about it.

And then Dorian smiledhis warm smile again that made Fenris' stomach tingle, a better reward than any touch could offer.

“I want you to be calm.” Dorian said softly and knelt in the water. Fenris stared at him confused. The mage knelt in front of him like a slave. But he wasn't given much longer to continue his thought, as Dorian swept him off his feet and Fenris let out a brief cry of surprise.

He could feel the mage's strong arms holding his body afloat, but his body started to panic nonetheless at the loss of ground. He tightly wrapped his hand around the mage's arm, his breath rapid and unsteady.

“Shhh. It's okay. I got you, Fenris. Just breath.” Dorian said calmly with his soft, yet worried smile. “I will not let you drown. Just take a deep breath. Yes, just like that. Good. And again, deep. And out... and in... and out... that's it.” Dorian's voice continued, praising Fenris when he followed his instructions.

The elf's gaze was almost fixed on Dorian's eyes, as if they were an anchor to keep him calm. Deep breaths now flooded his lungs, slow and steady and he almost forgot that he was in water, floating in the mage's gaze until he realised that the supporting arms underneath him had disappeared.

Panic washed over Fenris, his arms wilding splashing around, his feet kicking until he found the ground not far beneath him. Fenris felt like a fool, but Dorian just pulled him into a hug, calmly stroking his back.

“You did so well. You've been floating all on your own for a while.” he told the elf, who just melted into the intense touch, almost clinging to his body. Fenris had never been so close to anyone before. Not that Dorian minded having the handsome elf pressing his naked body against his like that, but he forced himself not to get distracted. Another time he might have taken advantage of the situation, but now he was here to teach him how to swim and not to seduce the elf.

“I believe in you, Fenris. You can float as long as you remember your calm and steady breath.” Dorian whispered into the wet white hair. “And if it's too much, you can put your feet on the ground.” he added and felt Fenris nod.

Slowly the elf peeled himself away, ready to try once again to face his fear. So far Dorian's teachings had not involved any pain, only encouragement and comfort. Again he focused on Dorian's eyes as the mage's arms guided him to a horizontal position.

But despite his encouraging words the elf couldn't fight his panic once the arms were gone again, so they tried again. And again.

“Good. You are doing well.” Dorian praised but Fenris felt like he made no progress at all. “Keep looking at me. Breath. I'm just going to lower my arms now. They are still there to catch you, okay? Keep breathing.”

And Fenris did, filling his lungs with air until he could breath in no further and then releasing it, knowing the mage's arms were just inches below as he was floating on the warm water surface.

“That's it. Well done.” Dorian smiled and his arms returned to Fenris back to help him find the ground. “See, there is no need to be afraid of the water.” he said and stroked his head. Fenris didn't understand how he had earned so much reward for something he had failed at so many times, but he savoured the moment.

“And next time you can learn how to use your arms and legs, if you want.” Dorian offered.

Fenris nodded eagerly. He wanted to be as free in the water as Dorian. He did not want to fear drowning ever again and the mage's methods of teaching made him long for more.

Fenris could not wait to go hunting again so Dorian would teach him more. It took time to make progress but the mage was patient and Fenris found himself wanting to impress him, longing for more praises and gentle touches. Unlike any training under Danarius any small progress was rewarded and Fenris was willing to push himself to his limits, not out of fear for punishment if he didn't, but because he yearned for more affection.

Dorian was his bastion of calm and Fenris soon was able to leave the memories of his near drown behind. With his help he soon was able to swim a few yards all on his own, the mage always at his side, the ground not far beneath his feet. He had never even imagined such a thing was possible and the feeling of floating and freely moving in the water was a precious thing to him. Away from the ground below and not bound to anyone or anything else, those were the only moments when he truly felt free and forgot all about his master.


	5. Affections

Besides Fenris there were only a few other elves among the fog warriors, but he felt no special connection to them. Most of them looked older than him, nearly twice his age, but he respected their skills. The fog warriors didn't like speaking about their past, so Fenris didn't ask and could not tell if any of them had been slaves before.

Luven was the only one who had ever spoken about his past and he assumed most of the younger members like Nithala had always been with the fog warriors and knew no other life.

Two of the most skilled were Tal-Vashoth of Qunari descend, but Fenris did not trust them, simply because they looked like his sworn enemies.

There was also a dwarf with a branded face among them but the large majority of the fog warriors where human and among them the half elf daughter of their leader who just looked like them.

Before coming here, Fenris had never imagined that a human and an elf could ever have a child together, but that their offspring would look so human only strengthened his believe that elves were a second class species.

Her slim features and rather high nose bridge hinted her mother's race but if he hadn't heard it from Luven, he would have believed her to be fully human with her round ears. Despite her feminine beauty she was just as well trained as a fog warrior as the rest of them.

What Fenris truly admired about her though was her open affection and her enchanting smile. Sometimes he wanted to think that she was smiling only for him.

The girl smiled shyly as she noticed Fenris watching her and then came closer to sit down next to him. Fenris had not meant to stare and now looked away in embarrassment.

“I don't mind if you look at me.” the girls sweet voice whispered and her soft fingers brushed over the markings on the back of his hand. Fenris closed his eyes for a moment so his heart wouldn't jump out of his chest at the sweet touch she offered. 

The touch on his hand disappeared, leaving the tingling remnant of the contact, only to find her hand a second later caressing his cheek instead like no one had before. Fenris turned to look at her soft smile, her eyes roaming of his face to take in every detail.

A blush rose to Fenris' cheeks and he couldn't help himself but to lean into the touch. What had he done to deserve such gentleness. He felt like he was touched by the blessed Andraste herself.

“Can I touch your ears?” Nithala asked quietly and her cheeks turned a slightly darker shade of red.

Fenris gulped and nodded, unsure why she would request such a thing.

Her fingers felt like warm, soft velvet as she let her index run along the length of his ear and Fenris sighed quietly at the pleasant feeling it caused.

“I always wished I had ears like that... like my mother.” she whispered, her fingers still running up and down the soft flesh of his ear.

“Why?” was all Fenris could manage.

“Because they look beautiful.” she replied with a smile, her hand returning to Fenris' cheek.

“But looking like an elf would not make your life easier.” Fenris said and almost choked on his own words because the girl was so close to him.

“Would you like me more if I'd look more elvhen?” she asked innocently instead of commenting on his remark.

Fenris heart was racing and he took her hand in his. “It shouldn't matter what someone looks like. I like who you are.” Fenris finally managed to answer. Her hand was squeezing his and he returned the gesture.

Nithala's smile was all he could think about in that moment.

“I like you, Fenris.” she whispered, leaning even closer, her sweet, flowery smell almost overpowering his senses. “Please stay with us.” she pleaded. “Stay here with me. I want to be with you.”

Fenris felt like he was about to melting. How had he deserved this? How could he deny such a request, so much affection? Her words sounded so genuine and her gestures and smile told him she was not lying. She wanted him. She liked him, simply for who he was.

Fenris bit his lip and nodded, her smile growing even brighter. Her wonderful dark blue eyes seemed to turn even darker as she looked at his lips, making Fenris' heart race.

She could not possible want to kiss him, did she? Fenris had seen other people kiss and always wondered what it would feel like to connect with someone like this. His eyes darted to her lips and back to her eyes before he felt their noses touch and then her soft lips captured his.

Fenris' belly felt like he had swallowed a beehive, a warm tingle spreading throughout his whole body. He did not know how to kiss but pressed his lips against her's just the same and when her free hand played with the hair at his neck. Fenris wrapped his other arm around her slender waist to hold her close as they exchanged their innocent first kiss.

She tasted of blueberry and herbs and honey. Fenris wanted this feeling to last forever.

When she pulled away Fenris kept staring into her deep blue eyes a wry smile on his lips.

She squeezed his hand once more, smiling back at him and then stood to leave, her strawberry blonde hair shining like fire in the evening light.


	6. Unbroken Chains

During dinner that night Nithala had joined Fenris' side again, almost leaning against his shoulder while they ate. Every now and then her fingers would accidentally brush against his skin, although Fenris wasn't sure if she just wanted it to seem unintentional but he had a smile on his lips whenever he turned to look at her. 

Simply having her so close and feeling the warmth of her body next to his excited Fenris. He could hardly eat as his stomach still tingled strangely and he felt a happiness he had not felt before.

Dorian's mood on the other seemed to be rather the opposite of his normal self that night. Fenris wondered if there was something bothering the mage but he didn't seem to want to talk about it.

When Fenris tried to ask him after the meal, Dorian had just shook his head with a rather sad look on his face. He looked somehow hurt, but Fenris did not know how to offer comfort, so he let him walk off to give him time to himself.

Seeing the mage like this gave Fenris another feeling he wasn't used to. He wanted to do something to make Dorian smile again, but didn't know how. The pleasant tingling he had felt in his stomach since he had kissed Nithala had now been replaced by an ugly knot that made him feel uneasy.

So instead of seeking the girl's company again, Fenris busied himself with some work and then went for a brief stroll towards the lake, hoping to find Dorian there.

A twig cracked behind him as he was on his way and Fenris shot around, but the figure that was lit by the almost full moon was not Dorian. Fenris’ eyes grew wide as he stared motionless at the approaching man.

“Finally I have found you, my little wolf.” Master Danarius said and Fenris could not help but drop to his knees in front of him.

“You've been a good pet to keep this.” the magister whispered as his rough fingers fondled the collar that was still around Fenris' neck and the elf tried to catch some of the touch on his skin.

“You look strong and healthy. Show me where you have stayed while you waited for my return.” Master Danarius said with a firm voice.

“Yes, master.” Fenris replied, bowing even lower and then stood to lead him and a handful of Tevinter soldiers that accompanied the magister back to the fog warrior's settlement. Being in his presence now it felt like he had never left his master.

Soon they could see the settlement lit in the faint glow of the dying fire in the square.

“Such a good pet.” Master Danarius praised him and petted his hair. “You've earned yourself a present.” he said and Fenris could hardly believe his words. Maybe waiting patiently for his return had been the right choice afterall.

One of his soldiers stepped forward and presented a new, well crafted sword to Fenris, nearly as large as the elf himself.

“Thank you, master.” Fenris gulped, overwhelmed by his masters graciousness and fell to his knees again to kiss his feet, before he humbly accepted the sword. It felt heavy in his hands, the rough leather on the hilt telling him where he truly belonged.

“And now I want you to kill them all.” Master Danarius ordered quietly, his voice alone like a leash, demanding the elf's obedience.

“As you wish, master.” Fenris bowed once more. Receiving an order from him felt like all the confusing emotions of the evening had been taken away from him and the heavy burden of making his own decisions had been handed back to his master.

Without giving it a second thought Fenris walked back into the settlement, the sword in his hand. No words left his lips as he started striking down the fog warriors one by one, catching them in surprise and murdering them as if he didn't know them. Most of them realised to late what Fenris was doing to even defend themselves.

The rising fog that one of them tried to use in defence only caused confusion among the fog warriors themselves, but it didn't slow down Fenris in the slightest. It only made it easier to kill them because he didnt’t have to see their terrified faces as he tured against his friends.

Most of the fog warriors lay already dead by the time Fenris faced their leader.

“What happened to you?” Luven asked as their swords clashed. “Fenris, stop this madness. This is not who you are! What is going on?” Luven did not wish to kill his friend, but nor did he want to see the rest of his tribe slaughtered.

The fog warrior struggled to stand his ground against Fenris' powerful strikes, but despite all of this happening, he would not give up on the elf. “Maker! Fenris, speak to me, my friend!” he shouted.

“Master Danarius has returned for me.” Fenris finally replied with a cold voice and his body phased through Luven's strike before his sword pierced the man's body. “Fight...” Luven spoke in pain coughing up blood. “... for... your … freedom.” With that his lifeless body slid off the blade into a pool of his own blood.

Fenris tried to take in his words as he killed another two remaining fog warriors.

“No! Fenris! No! Please... stop!” Nithala wept when she realised what had happened to her father and the rest.

Fenris hesitated only a second before approaching her, the sword still steady in his hand. The girl was trembling, a dagger in her hands and tears streaming down her face. “Please Fenris. Why? Please stop.” she cried.

Fenris dropped his sword and looked at her, his stare emotionless. 'Kill' his mind repeated. “I am sorry.” the elf whispered as his hand took a ghost-like appearance and he crushed it into her chest. Nithala's dagger dropped to the ground with a dull clang. Her lips formed his name as tears continued fall from her eyes.

Fenris looked at the heart in his hand and Nithala's lifeless body sank to the ground.

'Fight… for your freedom.'

What had he done? He looked around and saw nothing but the dead bodies of his friends litter the ground. What had he done!? His hand still closed around Nithala's heart he started to shake and let out a cry of pain and regret. He had killed them all with his own hands. The only people who had ever shown him what freedom meant. He had murdered them.

Fenris had no memories of ever crying but now an endless string of tears pearled from his eyes as he placed Nithala's heart back onto her chest. Letting out another cry he madly ripped at his collar unable to tear it away and no matter how much he tried, brutal force alone would not let him tear the collar of. For that he would need...

Dorian!

The mage had not yet returned. Fenris picked up his sword but in his rage he flung it away into the distace, not wanting to keep anything that was from Danarius. The leather bound hilt he had just cherrished with delight a moment ago now had filled him with disgust.

Just holding a small dagger in his hand he glowed ghostly blue as he charged like a berserker against Danarius' men.

Blood splashed over him as his fist ripped out every heart of Danarius' soldiers, crushing them one by one, ripping the limbs from their body with brute force, tearing them in half with nothing but his bare hands and leaving nothing but death and a gorey mess in his path.

“DANARIUS!” he called out in rage. “COME AND FACE ME!”

But the magister had fled like a coward once he noticed his precious pet had gone rogue. He should have brought more men to capture his pet. He would have to wait. No matter where Fenris went, Danarius would find him eventually.

Dorian.

The thought returned to Fenris when he could not find the magister and figured he had long fled the grounds.

Dorian was all Fenris could think about now as he disappeared into the jungle. He couldn't return. He had nothing to return to, but he did not want to die as a slave. He would ask the mage to free him from the damned leather around his neck before he could judge him for what he had done to their friends.

Luven had been right. He would rather die a free man than return to his master.

Fenris didn't have to search for long to find the mage because he had come charging back when he had heard the cries and screams from their settlement. Shocked he looked at Fenris' blood covered figure, only two thin lines down his cheekes washed clean by his tears.

“Maker, Fenris... what ...?” Dorian started to ask concerned, but the elf cut him off.

“Take it off!” Fenris growled, almost shouting at him as he continued to rip at his collar. “Take it off!” he demanded once more, his voice cracking as new, hot tears streamed down his cheeks and he started to sob into Dorian's chest.

Dorian gulped hard. It dawned on him that this sudden demand could only mean that Fenris had faced his old master. Had he killed him? Was that where all the blood came from?

Gently he wapped his arms around the shaking elf, one hand caressing his messy hair as magic flowed from the other to remove the leather collar around his neck.

The skin beneath was covered by less blood but heavily brused from Fenris' attempts to remove the collar himself.

With a dull thud the leather dropped to the ground and Dorian pulled the elf closer, rocking him gently too comfort him as Fenris cried into his chest.

“You should kill me.” Fenris said, his voice weak and cracking. “Just end this. I deserve to die.”

But instead of following his request, Dorian just held him tightly and kissed the white mess of his hair. “Shh, don't say such a thing.” he whispered with his velvety, soothing voice.

“I killed them.” Fenris whimpered. “I killed them all. He ordered it and I followed...” Fenris felt like he had a big lump in his throat and found it hard to even breath.

Dorian was not sure he understood. “T-them?” he asked, feeling uneasy.

“Our... friends.” Fenris choked. He had betrayed their trust and kindness. The people who had given him more than he could have ever hoped for and more and he had murdered them in cold blood, because of a mere word from Danarius.

Dorian pulled back to look and Fenris at a loss for words. Fenris could see countless expressions rush across the mage's face and then let his head hang in remorse and shame. His tears had stopped, all emotions had ceased.

“My life is yours to take.” Fenris said in a monotone voice and knelt in front of Dorian, his head lowered, as he offered him the dagger he was still carrying.

Dorian stared at Fenris and silence hung between them as the seconds ticked by. “He came, didn't he. He came and he ordered you.”

Fenris nodded.

Dorian sank to his knees to be on eye level with him. “But now your collar is gone, too. You are a free man, Fenris. You don't have to listen to his orders ever again.”

Fenris stared at him in disbelieve. How could his words be so soft after all this? How could he not wish him dead?

Dorian grabbed the elf's shoulders and pulled him back to his feet. Fenris did not dare to look up, but followed when Dorian slowly walked back towards to settlement to see for himself what had happened.

Dorian had braced himself but the sight was gruesome. All their friends dead, mixed with corpses and torn bodyparts of Teviter soldiers. The mage fought hard to keep his supper in but eventually couldn't fight back the urge any longer. This had simply been too much for his noble upbringing, the stench of blood filling his lungs.

Fenris still stood at his side like a lifeless doll, awaiting his punishment.

Finally Dorian scrambled back onto his feet. “We should bury them.” he said with a weak voice and Fenris followed without question. They deserved at least that much.

Throughout the whole night the two of them dug graves for the fog warriors and Dorian burned their names into pieces of wood to mark the place of their final rest. He could see Fenris shedding silent tears when he burried Nithala and Luven next to eachother.

Dorian clenched his first until his knuckles went white. He would make Danarius pay for this. Fenris had been a slave all his life and a mere few months away would not change him so easily. This had not been Fenris' fault. This was the magisters doing. One day they would hunt him down and make him regret everything he had done to Fenris.


	7. Stowaway

When Dorian and Fenris had reached the coast by noon next day, they were both utterly exhausted. Neither of them had slept in over a day despite the enormous strain of the previous day. They had not spoken since they had left the fog warriors' settlement behind, but had wordlessly agreed that they couldn't keep staying on Seheron any longer.

Once the shoreline had come into sight, Dorian had made a brief suggestion to rest for a while and catch an hour of sleep or two, before they would continue to the city of Seheron to sneak onto a ship under the cloak of the night. Fenris had only nodded in agreement and after a sip of water and had gone to sleep.

Fenris did not care for any wild beasts or bandits to kill him in his sleep. For all he knew he deserved to die and could not understand why Dorian was still with him. He was too tired to ponder about such questions and sleep came quickly.

Fenris rarely dreamed at all, but now the faces of his fallen friends haunted him and soon tore him from his rest. The sun hung low in the sky and Dorian was still sleeping close to him. The bitter-sweet smell of elfroot hung in the air. It felt almost impossible to locate the source as the smell was equally strong everywhere until he noticed the smell came from his own body, the heavily bruised neck, to be precise. Dorian must have treated the darkened flesh while Fenris had slept.

The mage was probably better off without him, yet he could not bring himself to simply walk away from him. Dorian was all he had left. He stretched out his arm and let his finger brush over the beauty spot on his cheek. If just his master had been someone like Dorian...

The mage stirred and blinked at Fenris. “Time to go?” he asked, his voice raspy from sleep.

Fenris nodded. “Just over an hour til sunset.” he stated. They shared a loaf of bread and then continued to walk in silence.

It was dark when they reached the harbour. It was quiet and almost empty now, no signs of the bloody fight that had raged when they had last been here. It might as well have been a completely different place.

Soon Dorian had chosen a ship that seemed to be a good candidate for them. Even without using any fog to hide their bodies the training with the fog warriors helped them a great deal to sneak on board without being spotted.

Just as Dorian had suspected it was a cargo ship, all signs indicating it would soon travel south to the mainland and even if that most likely meant returning to Tevinter, currently they both had only one goal: Getting away from Seheron.

Hidden between large crates of cargo the two of them found a good spot to settle down. Fenris felt a bit uneasy to be back on a ship. True, he had learned how to swim and was wearing no iron chain around his neck, but the thought of being thrown over board again if they were found was still unsettling.

“I know a spell to hide us from unwanted eyes.” Dorian said as if he had read his thoughts. “... but I don't know how long I can keep it up.”

Fenris was not fond of the idea of using magic to hide, but he trusted Dorian and agreed with a nod.

“I know I can keep it up even when I sleep.” the mage said with a rather smug expression.

“But you will drain your mana rapidly.” Fenris replied. He had lived his whole life among mages and knew how it was.

“We'll be fine.” Dorian said, brushing off the concern, as he cast the barrier that would keep them hidden as long as no one touched them. At least he had his staff.

Fenris thought it was foolish to use the spell already, but he would not argue. They both needed all the rest they could get before their journey and neither of them knew how long they would be at sea.

His staff firmly in one hand, Dorian settled against a crate and soon his eyelids felt too heavy to keep them open any longer.

Fenris watched him, listening for any sounds around them, but the ship was quiet. For a few minutes the elf left him alone to scout their immediate surroundings, in case they needed to move. He had also found an old blanked that smelled terribly of alcohol and a hint of fish, but had taken it in case they would need extra warmth.

The ship was still quiet and only the sound of waves filled the night and in the distance Fenris heard the faint voices of the dock guards.

When he returned to Dorian, he nearly tripped over him due to his spell and was glad to see how effectively he worked. Had he not memorised exactly where they had settled down he wouldn't have found him again.

Placing the smelly blanket aside, he sat next to Dorian for a while and watched him sleep. Fenris owed him more than his life. He had saved him when no one else had cared and spared his life when he had deserved nothing else but death.

Shyly Fenris snuggled into his side, the warmth of his body just being another bonus of being so close. He could feel the constant flow of magic that kept up the barrier in his marks. Dorian was right. He would not be able to keep this up forever, but Fenris could. He took a deep breath and then carefully placed his hand on top the mage's hand that held the staff.

Fenris flinched for a moment, his markings feeling like ice on his skin. It had been months since someone had used his lyrium brands as source for a spell, but Dorian's hand was warm and the feeling of their connection let a pleasant feeling spread through his body.

Resting his head against Dorian's shoulder, sleep finally overcame him as well and he only hoped he would not have to dream about the horrors of his deeds again.

By the time Fenris woke again it was almost noon and from the constant sway of the ship he was sure they had long left the harbour.

It seemed that Dorians spell continued to work well and Fenris hand was still resting on the mages.

But then he stirred when he noticed his companion had woken up, but when Fenris turned to look up at him, Dorians face looked anything but healthy. The human gave him a weak smile, his eyes indicating at their hands, but then turned his pale face away again, covering his mouth with his free hand.

Fenris was still a little dazed from sleep, trying to comprehend what was going on. The mana drain should not have such an effect on Dorian since his markings were providing enough lyrium for the spell.

And then it dawned on him.

Dorian was sea sick.

The mage was almost bending over, fighting the urge to throw up, his hand still clutching the staff as if this was his lifeline.

“Wait here.” Fenris whispered and moved away from him. What a foolish thing to say. Where would Dorian go in such a state?

Fenris peeked around the crates and lifted his hand from Dorian's. The drain of mana wouldn't improve his state, so Fenris tried to be as quick as he could without making a sound to find the bucket he had spotted the night before and sure enough found it in the same place.

Just as he was about to return, one of the sailors had appeared and Fenris ducked down. The man didn't look dangerous, yet he seemed to be looking for something. Did he know they were here? What if Dorian would make any noise that he couldn't suppress?

“Oy! What'cha fink ye doin' down there?”

Fenris flinched and ducked down even lower, closing his eyes as if that would make him disappear. What if Dorian had dropped his staff and they had spotted him? Fenris heart was hammering in his chest as he tried to think about how to take down the man without rousing any further commotion.

“Finkin' ye could slag off to get drunk, ey?” the voice continued.

Fenris looked a little confused but remained where he was.

“Get yer arse back up 'ere right now and if ye give me tha bottle I'll forget I've seen ye down there, ey mate.”

“Aye aye, ser.” another rough voice a lot closer to Fenris replied to the first one. Fenris held his breath until the man had left before he let out a quiet breath of relieve. They had not spotted either of them after all. It had just been a lazy sailor.

Fenris heard a muffled sound from the other end of the room. Dorian! He rushed back as fast as he could without so much as making a plank creek.

The bucket had reached Dorian just in time, before he had to empty his bowels in a not very dignified way.

Fenris felt rather helpless, not sure what else he could do. He returned his hand back to Dorian's on the staff, the other softly patting the mage's back.

“Thank you.” Dorian whispered weakly, his head still over the bucket. When the mage looked up again, he looked even paler than before and Fenris wondered how someone with such a gorgeous tan could even look so white. He handed the mage one of the water-skins and Dorian drank a few sips before handing it back.

Once the water-skin was stored again again Fenris folded up the blanket he had found and placed it on his lap, patting it in a suggestive gesture.

Dorian felt too sick to question him and rested his head on the smelly blanket, his free arm hugging the bucket.

Fenris looked down at him and tangled his fingers in the black hair that had grown rather long by now, stroking him gently and soothingly. He didn't know what to say or what other comfort he could offer, but he would be there for Dorian.

Hours had passed and Dorian was still sick, but he had finally fallen asleep again. Fenris' hand on the staff felt icy cold, but he would not let go of Dorian because of such minor discomfort. Dorian's spell didn't require much mana, but Fenris had never fed magic with his lyrium for so long.

At dusk Fenris had a bite to eat, but Dorian couldn't force anything down, the mere thought of food making him sick, so Fenris had given him some water to drink instead and a leaf of elfroot to chew on. The elf's fingers were still tangled in Dorian's hair and he continued to marvel how soft, yet thick it felt under his touch.

After a while Fenris had shifted to switch his hands. He was impressed by Dorian's spell and how long it lasted without breaking down. Luckily the cargo area remained quiet for most of the time anyway. At dawn of the third day on the ship Dorian started to feel a little better and was able to keep at least small bites in his stomach. Fenris had studied the sailors routine in regards to the cargo area carefully and when he knew it would be quiet, he let them both rest from the spell for a while.

Fenris had also started searching the crates for extra food and drink, but being unable to read the cargo's content didn't make this an easy task. He was able to locate some dried fruit and later had also found clothing that would fit them and made them look more civilised.

Dorian thanked the maker that they had not run into any larger storm. The waves had been bad enough for him as they were and after nearly a week of travelling hidden away among the cargo, the commotion above signalised that they had finally reached the mainland.


	8. Home

“Vishante Kaffas!” 

Fenris looked at his mage companion with confusion. He had expected him to be relieved to be back on solid ground, but Dorian looked anything but happy.

“By the void, out of all the maker forsaken places in all of Thedas, it had to be Qarinus!” Dorian sighed and let his hand run over his face. 

Fenris tilted his head slightly. What was wrong with being in Qarinus? At least now he didn't have to ponder where exactly they had ended up since Fenris had not recognised the tall, white city walls towering beyond the port. 

Despite the warm weather Dorian pulled the hood of his cloak deep into his face, as they made their way towards the city gate. Were they being watched? Had Danarius send more men after them and Fenris had overlooked the threat?

The elf pulled up the high collar of his new tunic to cover his chin and the markings on it. The outfit he had found on the ship was simple, yet distinctly in Tevinter fashion. A light tunic with long sleeves and a standing collar to hide most of his markings. On top he wore a thin, black jerkin with silvery metal clasps down the front and tight leggings covered his legs and most parts of his feet. Only his fingers and bare toes showed that he was not an ordinary elf. No proper slave would to wear such expensive clothes, yet they had seemed practical and so he had taken them. 

“Let's keep our time here brief.” Dorian said with a bitter voice as they headed through the city gates and towards the market square. Being back in a large Tevinter city made Fenris feel uneasy, as if he could feel his master's leash still binding him to his status as a slave, he would not complain about Dorian's request to leave soon. 

The enchanting smell of delicious, cooked food, fruity wines and freshly baked bread made their stomachs growl. After day at sea Dorian had lost quite some weight and was starving for a proper meal. Fenris, though well fed enough, couldn’t deny that he was longing for a nice, warm meal as well.

The mage had little coin left, but it was enough to afford a good meal for both of them. Together they sat on empty crates in a quiet corner near the city walls with fresh food from the marked and filled their empty bellies. 

Dorian had not wanted to go to a tavern and Fenris wasn't sure if it was to remain hidden or because he couldn't afford a meal there, or maybe both. Fenris couldn't care less right now. When he had lived with Danarius he had never thought food could really have such a full flavour, loaded with numerous spices he had never tasted before, although he had smelled his master's meals and imagined something like this. And Dorian had simply handed it to him without giving it a second thought. 

Fenris had thought that once they had left Seheron, he would be a slave once more and among all the Tevinters here he felt like one. 

_'We are all equals here'_ Dorian had once said. _'Here'_. To Fenris leaving the fog warriors had meant leaving equality behind, but so far Dorian gave no sign that he thought of him as a slave now. 

Fenris chewed his lip, unsure if he was allowed to speak without being spoken to first. “Why do you dislike Qarinus?” Fenris finally dared to ask rather shyly after a long silence between them, hoping to get him to other thoughts.

“Right. I haven't told you yet, have I.” Dorian sighed and stopped eating. “This is were everything started... Qarinus is my home town, the city I ran from. And see how far I've gotten... Have I gone through all of this just to be washed back onto the doorsteps of my father's house?” Dorian spat the last words with disgust. 

Father. Home. His Family. Fenris couldn't remember any of this. What would he give to find out! And yet Dorian seemed less than pleased with the thought. 

“You... don't like your father?” Fenris asked and for the first time it occurred to him, that Dorian had never shared his family name with him. He had always just been Dorian to him and it had been enough. It still was. 

Dorian huffed out a short laugh of disgust but at the same time Fenris noticed a sad look on his face.

“How could I like a man like that? A man who would do _anything_ for his own legacy. A father who would try to use blood magic on his own son to change him into what he wants. The same fucking magic he had always condemned as 'the resort of the weak mind'... A father who would rather risk his son to become a drooling vegetable than to accept him for who he is...” 

More and more anger had bubbled up in Dorian with every word, his voice getting gradually louder until he suddenly had gone quiet. Fenris noticed Dorian had only stopped because he looked at the elf's hand that was now resting on his, the mage's tight fist now slowly relaxing again under the gentle gesture. Fenris had not even been aware that he had taken Dorian's hand. 

Dorian gave him a sad smile, his gaze fixed on the big green eyes of the man next to him. 

Fenris still wasn't sure what exactly about Dorian could possibly have opposed his father so much that he had wanted to use blood magic to change him, but from what he had seen Danarius do, he would not wish any of this on Dorian. 

Dorian squeezed his eyes shut as if he was forcing back tears and shook his head slightly. “He would kill you if he knew...” he murmured.

'Knew what?' Fenris wanted to ask, but no words would leave his lips.

“Thank you, Fenris.” Dorian whispered after a short sniff and a soft smile decorated his handsome face once more. 

Fenris squeezed his hand gently before letting go and he returned Dorian's smile. “You should eat, before it gets cold. I should not have interrupted you.”

“No, you had all right to ask, but I agree that we should eat up.” 

\---

All in all for Dorian it was a pleasant change to be back in a large city, even if it was Qarinus. He was simply more suited for a life here than out in the jungle, but he missed the proper comforts a city should offer. Comforts that were reserved for those with adequate means of payment. 

Despite the fresh robes they had stolen from the ship in his current state Dorian looked way below his actual status. There was nothing to spare for new clothing or a barber visit, the coin he had left in his pockets had barely been enough to buy a loaf of bread they shared for supper. 

With the stubbles he had grown on his chin over the last few days, the rather long hair and less elegant style of clothing it was unlikely someone would recognise him which made hiding from his family a lot easier, however by nightfall Dorian desperately wished for a proper bath and a shave and a soft, warm bed. Unfortunately it wasn't something he could afford right now. The only solution his mind looped to was going home. 

Facing his parents was not an option, least of all with Fenris at his side and to stay there for even one night. 

Dorian knew the streets of Qarinus well, every upper class boutique and tavern, every residence of the magisters, high ranking maages and nobles in the city, but he knew nothing of the life of the poor, apart from that most of them lived in a settlement just outside the city walls. But where would a Liberati stay and eat with little or no coin during travel? Was there even such a place here? Fenris was just as clueless as him. 

They had tried to find some rest in a quiet corner but were soon chased off by the city guards. Using magic to hide in a city full of mages was pointless, so in the end Dorian had come up with a new plan. They would have to steel some coins to pay for a nicer accommodation, or rather to retrieve what he already owned. This however meant that if he didn't want to see his parents, Dorian would have to break into his own home. 

Fenris didn't like the idea but had to agree that this was better than steeling from strangers or getting captured.

Fenris gasped when Dorian stopped at one of the largest buildings in the city with richly decorated, high windows and the classic, rounded roof. 

There were still a few candles or other forms of magical fire burning inside. If Dorian's lifestyle before running away had taught him anything, it was how to get out and in of his room after dark for a quick adventure during the night, without having his parents judge his scandalous affairs. 

Once again Fenris was amazed how Dorian had willingly left such a luxurious life behind, but at the prospect of blood magic rituals he could not judge his choice. Considering the size of the mansion Fenris was sure he would have at least heard the name of Dorian's father before. Danarius had always made sure that Fenris was well educated about allied and rival magisters. Someone of this status would not have remained unnoticed.

But there was no time to discuss such matters right now and what would it change? 

Dorian had used his hiding spell for both of them again to sneak through the extended gardens of the manor. Any mage might see through the illusion quite quickly, but it would still keep them hidden from any Soperati servants or slaves. Having spend so much time with Fenris, Dorian felt uneasy about admitting that even his family kept slaves.

The way inside had been just as easy as Dorian remembered, through one of the windows at the back. There was not much time for Fenris to look around and admire the rich décor along the hallways if he wanted to remain within Dorian's barrier. Distant whispers and the clatter of dishes being washed in the kitchen drowned out their muffled footfall on the soft carpets.

Quietly they tiptoed their way upstairs towards Dorian's room at the end of a dark hallway. It suddenly occurred to the mage that Fenris was the first man he would bring to his own room and a blush rose to his cheeks. It was a rather childish thought, but how he wished he would bring him here in a different manner and not secretly in the middle of the night like thieves. 

The spell that kept the door locked was easily undone and Dorian opened it without so much as a creak. Dorian was surprised to find most of his room and belongings untouched or at least unmoved. Maybe they still hoped he would come back one day...?

Fenris let his gaze roam over the dark room, his eyes lingering a little longer on the large bed that had easily room for two or three. Everything in the room looked tasteful and neatly organised. He wondered what secrets lay hidden in the numerous tomes of the large bookshelf that covered half a wall. 

Dorian had less luck with finding all the coin than he had hoped for. He assumed it had been placed somewhere else to keep it safe. Dorian cursed quietly, grabbed a few other things he considered useful or valuable enough to fetch a good price until he found one well hidden pouch of coins he had kept secretly for a reason he couldn't remember and had probably forgotten about when he had run away. It would help them at least for a while, if they were economical with their expenses. 

Dorian eyed the quill on his desk, playing with the idea of leaving a message. After all it had been almost a year since he had left his home. He looked towards the door and back to the desk. Finally he opened the ink well and quickly scribbled. _'I'm well. Don't look for me.'_ He wasn't even sure why he bothered.

Footsteps broke the silence outside in the hallway and Dorian dropped the quill, splashing ink over the parchment. Grabbing Fenris' wrist he pulled the elf towards the window and opened it with a creek he had forgotten about. Using the ledge below, the drop wasn't too deep. “Go.” he whispered to Fenris with urgency, almost pushing the elf out of his window. 

“Who's there?” a female voice called, the footsteps quickly approaching his door now. 

Dorian hesitated, part of him longing to see his mother's face. No, who knew what that would lead to. He could not abandon Fenris. With a final look towards the door he made his way to follow the elf.

“Dorian? Is that you?” he heard his mother's voice asked as she entered the room, but Dorian was already gone, the heavy curtains at his window still swaying gently in the breeze. He had been a fool to leave the note. Now they knew he was in the city. 

“Dorian!” Aquinea's voice was growing fainter as the two of them rushed back through the gardens. 

Running as fast as they could they dashed through the garden and back into the dark streets and then continuing at a more normal pace to an inn at the other end of the city. Fenris had found the trip rather exciting but Dorian felt awful, as if he were a criminal. He could not forget the hope he had heard in his mother's voice. The mage took a deep breath and just tried to tell himself that she had only been worried about losing their only heir, nothing else. The thought helped.


	9. In a Bed

Despite the late hour they had managed to rent a small, but comfortable and clean room in an inn. What Dorian hadn't thought about though, was the fact that the innkeeper would not consider Fenris a normal guest, but as the mage's personal slave. So when they entered the room he was surprised to find only one bed and a shabby, old bedroll in the corner. 

Dorian rubbed his neck in embarrassment, but Fenris didn't look upset. 

Without a word of complaint the elf made his way towards the corner to settle down. Fenris had slept in worse places before. At least this one was dry, warm, didn't smell horribly and even offered a pillow and blanket. For his standards this was a rather comfortable spot to sleep in. 

“No, no no!” Dorian exclaimed shutting the door behind them. Fenris looked over his shoulder. “No way you are sleeping down there.” 

The elf just looked confused. Where else was he supposed to sleep? On the floor while there was a perfectly fine bedroll available to him? 

“Fenris, we've shared a tent for months, surely we can share a bed even if it is a bit small, don't you think?” 

The bed? Fenris stared at him and then at the bed. 

Dorian nodded, a slight blush creaping onto his cheeks. 

Fenris gulped. In his experience there was only one reason why a mage would let his slave sleep in their bed. Danarius had never requested him to join him or ordered him to join others, but he had seen other elves and knew stories of what happened. He wasn't even exactly sure what the whole process involved, especially between two men, but none the less he felt like he didn't want to disappoint Dorian and started with the one thing he was sure about - taking off all clothes. After all Dorian had been the one who paid for the room, so why would he not be the one making the rules? 

When Dorian pulled his tunic over his head, his face turned scarlet as he saw Fenris already dressed down to his small clothes which were now sliding down his legs as well. It wasn't that he hadn't seen the elf naked before, Maker knew he had and what a sight he was! But the elf usually never slept in the nude. Was Fenris offering himself? 

Dorian turned to hide his burning, red face. “Maker, I am sorry, Fenris! This is not what I meant by sharing the bed.” Dorian said. Kaffas! He was acting like a young boy, as if he had never been intimate with a man before. He could not deny that he wanted this to happen, but not like this. Not because Fenris just thought he had to. But what if he had wanted it?

When he turned to look back at him, Fenris had put his undergarnments back on, but still wore a puzzled look on his face. “I thought...” Fenris stammered.

“I'm sorry. I should have known... Please, just get into bed.” Dorian babbled. “This will be just like sharing the tent, okay?” 

Fenris still didn't really understand, but he didn't argue. His gaze was now lingering on the soft sheets in front of him, his fingers brushing over the fabric. 

If he had ever lain in a bed before, it had been in the life he couldn't remember anymore. His hand pressed down on the matteress and he gasped as it gave way to the applied pressure. Everything felt so soft and smooth. He patted the pillow decorated with countless little flowers, wondering what was inside. It was way too soft for a straw pillow. Sheepwhool maybe? No, some sort of feathers. There was one poking out through the fabric right there. How many feathers could one fit in a pillow like that? Was it from chickens? And how many chickens would it take to fill it like that? 

Fenris looked up, noticing Dorian's gaze on him, just standing motionless next to the bed. This time the mage wore a softer expression on his face now but the blush had not yet faded from his cheeks. 

Dorian had pulled back the duvet for him and finally Fenris climbed into bed, just to marvel once more at the softness and comfort of the bed and how the mattress perctly mirrored the shape of his body. “So soft...” Fenris murmured to himself, his fingers still caressing the fine fabric.

He could feel the mattress give way to Dorian's weight when the mage joined him. For a moment Fenris wondered what the huge bed in Dorian's room would feel like. Surely it was even softer than this one. 

“It feels like... floating.” Fenris whispered after Dorian had extinguished the candle and he could hear the mage giggle quietly. 

“I suppose it does. It feels good to sleep in a bed again.” the mage said with a happy voice and took a deep, relaxed breath. 

“I never have.” Fenris replied nuzzling the fluffy pillow. “But I like it.” he added and suddenly could feel Dorian stroking his hair. The mage had turned on his side to face him and watched him with a smile. Fenris leaned into the touch and closed his eyes to focus all his senses on the hand. 

If this was a dream, Fenris never wanted to wake up again. Maybe the mage had summoned a desire demon? But Fenris had never desired before to sleep in a bed or much else for that matter. His face pressed into the soft pillow and he took a deep breath. 

“It smells like a field of flowers.” Fenris said and for a split second an image of a field covering in countless colourful flowers at a warm summer's day sprang to his mind. He could feel the sun on his face and hear a child's laughter. And then it vanished just as quickly as it had come. He could not tell if it had been imagination or a memory from his lost past. As far as he could remember he had never laid down in a field like that before.

“We should sleep in beds more often.” Dorian whispered. Or rather sleep together in one bed, the mage's mind added. He enjoyed sharing it with Fenris more than he had imagined. Being in bed with another incredibly handsome man just to sleep with no sex involved was a new concept for him, but one he felt he could get used to. 

There was a long silence and Fenris simply enjoyed all the pleasant sensations the bed had to offer. He wasn't sure if Dorian had already fallen asleep until he heard the man's voice again. 

“I still haven't thanked you for all your help back on the ship. I probably didn't look very dignified with my head over the bucket half the time. Certainly not a state I usually would want to be seen in...” the mage chuckled quietly. “But thank you for taking care of me. It really helped to have someone look after me.”

Fenris turned to smile at him but wasn't too sure if Dorian could see him in the darkness. 

“Maybe it's best to continue our journey on land from here on.” Dorian said, still sounding rather amused about himself. 

“Where are you going?” Fenris asked. He had never paid any thought to where he wanted to go himself since they had left Seheron. The only goal he had was to stay away from Minrathous and Danarius. 

The fact that Fenris had asked where _he_ was going and not _they_ , made Dorian feel uneasy. “Somewhere south.” Dorian answered. “Starkhaven or Kirkwall maybe. It doesn't really matter. To be honest, I … was hoping you would come with me. It would be terribly dull to travel such a distance alone. And I would hate to see you back in Danarius' hands, so I'd rather have you somewhere where I can keep an eye on you. That is, if you want to travel with me. But if you have other plans then...”

Dorian stopped when Fenris had reached across to touch his upper arm. “I do...” Fenris started trying to search for the right words. Dorian's heart nearly stopped at his words and all happiness had vanished from his face at the idea of leaving Fenris behind. 

But then Fenris finished his sentence with “...want to come with you.” and the mage let out a big sigh of relieve as if he hadn't breathed for a minute. Although he would have respected Fenris' choice, the thought of letting him go off alone had been almost too much to bear. 

Now it was Dorian who reached across the bed and wrapped his arm around the elf's slender waist to pull him closer. He simply couldn't help himself and needed to express his relief in some way.

Fenris let out a quiet squeek of surprise, but then cuddled into the warm body next to him. After all they had gone through together Dorian was still a mystery to him, but Fenris' constant hunger for affection was too great to question his behaviour in fear the mage would stop. He was just wondering when he would finally start to make requests of him, to claim Fenris as his own slave and make him work hard for every touch and smile and sweet word. 

He decided that whatever the future would hold for him, Dorian would be in every way a better master than Danarius and in the comfort of this thought he rested his head against the mage's chest. He could hear Dorian's rather rapidly beating heart, but he found the rhythm very enjoyable and relaxing. 

The mage's body radiated a pleasant warmth and despite the rough days that lay behind them, his smooth skin felt like silk. 

Listening to the neverending throb in Dorian's chest, Fenris was soon sound asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The artwork is my own


	10. Ghosts of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian and Fenris go shopping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is finally the next chapter.   
> Thank you for being so patient :)

The next morning the warm rays of the sun had tickled their faces to wake them. It had been a pleasant change and Fenris felt more relaxed and well rested than usually. Like every morning he had woken up before Dorian, but for what felt like the first time in his life, he didn't want to get up and just enjoyed the warmth and the strong arms around him for a little while.

Only when the mage started to stirr did Fenris finally peel away to start the day. 

They both enjoyed the comforts of proper hygine, taking their time to wash and in Dorian's case also to shave. Dorian made sure they looked well groomed like proper civilised men, before they packed their belongings and went to get some breakfast downstairs. 

Fenris awkwardly shifted in his seat when Dorian went to fetch their breakfast. The things the mage did for him never ceased to amaze Fenris. When Dorian had put down a plate in front of him, Fenris started to nibble one of the fruits while he eyed the steaming, black liquid in his mug. It's almost enchanting fragrance mixed with the smell of fresh bread and honey made Fenris mouth water. 

Since Dorian had come into his life there had been so many 'firsts' for him and all of them had been pleasant. 

Finally he wrapped his fingers around the drink and took a sip. It had been rather bitter in a way but he found himself enjoying the rich flavour. He simply had to take another sip before putting the mug back down to eat a piece of bread dipped in honey. He kept closing his eyes after every bite or sip to savour the taste. How was this all real? 

Suddenly he noticed that Dorian still hadn't eaten anything yet. He just sat across from him, his chin resting in his palm, watching Fenris with a pleased smile. 

“I...” Fenris stammered and felt heat rise to his face, not even sure what he was trying to say. Had the mage been watching him the whole time? 

“There's nothing wrong with enjoying yourself every once in a while.” Dorian chuckled.

“But...” Fenris started, wanting to protest that a slave had no right to enjoy himself and should only see joy in his master's pleasure, but Dorian shook his head. 

“There is no 'but'.” he insisted and then also started to eat. Now it was Fenris who was watching him although he felt a bit foolish to do so. Cleanly shaven and well styled Dorian looked even more handsome, like the day they had met. Maybe it was because the mage enjoyed himself the most that way?

In the end Fenris had continued to eat, letting nothing go to waste. 

Fenris loved strolling over the market with Dorian. There were so many things to see, so many impressions and smells to take in that it was almost overwhelming. With Danarius he had always only been focused on identifying potential threats and never had time to enjoy the spirit of a lively market. 

Walking up and down between merchants he found that their calls about their goods only mixed into a cacophony of words and were hard to make out. There were amulets and staffs, a large variety of rings in gold and silver, dwarven crafts from Orzamar, a selection of fine Tevinter and Antivan wines, soaps and other beauty products for the nobility, books and writing supplies, runes and fabric, fruit and meat and fish. Fenris felt almost lost in the seemingly never-ending offers available for purchase. 

Dorian had once more taken the lead and appeared to be completely in his element. Together they looked for suitable supplies for the upcoming journey and Dorian sold a few items he had taken from his room. By noon Fenris felt rather exhausted, but luckily they had gotten most of what they had been looking for. 

After a small lunch they went to see a horse trader. Fenris was impressed to see how much Dorian knew about that sort of purchases, but he had also the impression that the trader knew Dorian, although he wouldn't call him by his name. In the end the mage had purchased two elegant and strong horses, a tall, black stud for himself and a beautiful, white mare for Fenris. 

The horses were well trained and had just received new horseshoes. Once they had been saddled, they loaded their supplies and belongings onto the horses.

Fenris shyly patted the mare's nose, feeling rather intimidated by the noble beast. He was glad he had learned how to ride to show off or to accompany his master – former master, he reminded himself. She looked so elegant that Fenris wanted to imagine she might almost be a halla. He had never seen one, but he always imagined they would look like her, just with additional majestic antlers to crown her head. Maybe they would even see some real halla during their travels?

“Come Fenris, let's do a last stop at the tailor and then we shall be off.” Dorian suggested, leading his horse behind him. They would spend enough time on their backs later anyway. 

Fenris had waited with the animals while Dorian took care of their shopping. The mage looked rather pleased with himself when he left the shop, but then Fenris stared right past him and he felt like the world around him had stopped. 

There was a young, elven girl with red hair in the tailor's shop that caught Fenris' attention. Fenris didn't know why, but he was sure he had seen her before, sure that he knew her from somewhere. She seemed so familiar to him and yet he had no idea who she was. Maybe she had just reminded him of Nithala?

Standing there like frozen he watched her pack away things, maybe clothes Dorian had looked at but not purchased. She wore her fiery hair in a sort of bun, some loose strands falling into her face. Her clothes had no holes or patches and hugged her figure just perfectly. Although she had something sad about her she didn't look like a slave and that thought made a warmth fill his belly that was different from any other feeling he knew. Perhaps he saw in her his hopes for his own freedom?

“Fenris? Are you alright? Shall we be on our way?” Dorian asked, now already sitting on his horse and ready to leave. 

Fenris only nodded and got on his horse, but his eyes were still glued to the figure inside. Even from his horse he kept watching the girl through the shop window. And then the girl turned to looked at them and their eyes met. 

Her big, green eyes had a colour just like his own, but an expression of shock in them. As if a lightningbolt had struck him, images flashed across Fenris' mind. 

“Fenris, quick! My father! Let's move! Now!” Dorian shouted at him and the mage's voice pulled him out of his trance, the images in his head were already fading as if they had never been there. Not far off the mage had spotted the magister in the crowd with two other men, one of them now hinting in their direction. 

“Fenris!” Dorian called out again as his horse went into a trot towards the city gates. He would not give his father a chance to try his sick rituals on him, nor would he undergo another one of his endless and pointless lectures. 

Fenris pulled himself together and directed his eyes at Dorian. A second later he commanded his mare to follow. 

Out of the corner of his eyes he had seen the red haired girl leave the shop and when he looked back at her he could see her shouting something after him. It had seemed to be just one word repeated over and over but he couldn't make it out over the rest of the noises. The next time he looked over his shoulder he could no longer spot her in the distance. 

The cool air brushing past him as he followed Dorian to the gate left a cold line on his cheeks and it was only when he brought one hand to his face that he realised he had been crying. Who was the girl? Now he would probably never find out. Maybe it was just best to forget about her alltogether. 

At the city gate they were halted by the guards and Dorian dismounted for a brief chat. Fenris noticed the he was also showing the guard some sort of amulet but he couldn't make out the details. 

“Thank you for your kind consideration. Marothius is far and we have a long trip ahead. If my father should ask you for me, please just tell him I'm save and there's no need to worry.” Dorian told him with a sly wink before he mounted his horse again, waving Fenris to follow. They rode south a few yards and then Dorian suddenly turned his horse to ride east soon leaving the shore to follow the main road to Carastes. 

Confused Fenris looked at Dorian and had a brief look over his shoulder. He could still make out the guards at their posts and was sure at least one of them had noticed that they had suddenly changed their route. 

“So we are not going to Marothius? I thought you said you wanted to travel south?” Fenris asked, still puzzled by the sudden change of mind. 

Dorian chuckled with delight. “Oh, of course we are going south to Marothius.”

“But your father will find out...”

Dorian laughed again and looked rather pleased with himself. “That he will indeed. But the beautiful thing about him, my dear friend, is that he wouldn't trust a word I say. So I told the guard the truth and if I am right, Marothius will be the last place my father will look for me.”

Once the city was out of sight they turned again south as planned to get back to the road they had intended to take. From there on they followed the road south in silence until sunset and Dorian picked a spot for them to camp. 

“You really have a thing for red-heads, don't you?” Dorian chuckled staring into the fire as they ate their supper. “The way you stared at that tailor girl... Shame really that I don't have red hair...” 

“No no, it's not like that.” Fenris stammered flustered. He had almost forgotten about the elven girl.

“Oh? Next you tell me she wasn't pretty?”

“No! I mean, yes she was pretty but that's not the point. She's...” Fenris sighed. “I don't know. I just felt like I knew her.”

“Felt like? You mean you've seen her lovely face before or just someone she reminded you of?”

Fenris didn't answer for a while, thinking about the mage's words. “I'm not sure.” he finally replied. “When she looked into my eyes I...” He found it hard to put into words what he had experienced. 

“There were those images in my mind. I can't even recall them anymore now.”

“Anything naughty?” Dorian kept teasing. 

“What? No, nothing like that! Just... impressions. A laughter, a smell, the feeling of hair in my hand...” Fenris shook his head slightly and sighed. “I think she also recognised me or something about me. There was something in her eyes... The more I think about it the more I assume she was someone I knew before I got my markings.”

“You really don't remember anything from before?”

Fenris had often hinted that this was the case but they had never really discussed it. 

The elf shook his head and stared at the dinner in his hands. “Nothing. Anything that was before the lyrium was burned into my flesh may as well have never happened.”

“Don't you want to know?” Dorian asked eyeing him. 

“To what end? It is the past and I can not change it, knowing about it or not. It does not matter what I did or who I knew before. Whoever I was before, that person died when I became Danarius' slave. Let the dead rest.” Fenris said with his eyes fixed on the markings of his forearm and hand. 

Dorian was about to crack a bad joke about being a necromancer, but bit his tongue to keep it to himself. This was hardly the time for humour of such sort. He sighed and Fenris was glad the mage didn't push the matter any further.


	11. Apple-ogy

The closer they got to Marothius the worse the weather seemed to get. Sometimes they could already see the first peaks of the Hundred Pillars rise in the distance if rain clouds didn't hide them from their view. The horses increasingly struggled with the muddy road and the steadily rising terrain but they kept riding on. 

The mage's cheerful chatter had ceased and sometimes Fenris had the feeling that Dorian wouldn't speak at all anymore, unless it was to complain. For the past two days all he had heard was how awful the rain was, how the mage disliked the cold wind, that he smelled like a wet dog and the food they had left tasted dreadful, that he couldn't sleep at night and needed a bed, a roof over his head, a proper bath and fresh clothes and on and on. 

They were freezing, soaked to their bones and as exhausted as their horses, but they had to press on if they wanted to see an end to this soon. 

Fenris tried not to listen anymore to the mage's complaints and was grateful that thanks to Dorian's magic they at least still managed to get a fire going every time they rested. Fenris would huddle up to his travelling companion to seek his comfort and warmth. Even without a word spoken between them they would enjoy each others company while the fire lasted.

A more cheerful mood returned when the walls and roofs of Marothius finally appeared in the distance. They sped up their horses as much as possible, urging them on to reach the city before nightfall so they could all get the much needed rest. 

Both of them were more than relieved when they finally made it to the city. The streets were almost empty because of the constant downpour, so it took them nearly an hour to locate a suitable inn and left the horses in the stable.

They had barely reached the room Dorian had rented for them in the rather lively inn when the mage already started to peel off his dripping clothes. Anything else could wait until he had a proper hot bath. Fenris blushed a little as he saw the bare skin of the mage and bashfully looked away until he was sure Dorian had disappeared into the bathroom. After he had scrubbed off the worst dirt, he let out a content sigh as he leaned back in the porcelain bath tub, enjoying the steaming water.

In the meantime Fenris dutifully unpacked and hung up all the wet clothes near the fireplace to dry. He didn't care much about the little pool of water that formed underneath. It would dry eventually.

Then Fenris poked his head out into the rain through one of the two windows of the room and the wind slapped more cold raindrops against his face as he stared out into the night. 

The windows were rather small, but just big enough to slip through if needed. The drop down onto the stables and then to the alley behind would be manageable. Who knew how long they could remain hidden if they stayed here? It wouldn't hurt to be prepared for a possible escape.

Finally he locked the window again and looked around for anything in the room that could serve as an emergency weapon. In his heart he knew Danarius would come for him sooner or later. Somehow his former master always knew where he was.

Wrapped in a dry blanket he settled down in front of the fire to warm his shaking, cold limbs and nibbled on some dried fruit, staring into the crackling flames.

The room was small but comfortable enough and this one even had two beds, which he kept eyeing with great interest. A bed all for himself! He hadn't washed yet but without his muddy, wet clothes on he got up risking to try out what they would feel like. 

Caressing the fabric with his fingers he finally sat down and found just as much delight in the sensation as last time. Supporting most of his weight with his feet on the floor, he started to bob up and down to test the springs of the mattress which creaked quietly every time, much to Fenris' delight.

Was it foolish to find joy in such a little thing? Fenris cast a glance towards the bathroom and then pulled up his legs, now kneeling on the bed as he continued to make the mattress give way to the up and down motions of his body and his lips started to curl into a smile. He wasn't sure what exactly he enjoyed so much about hopping on the bed but for him it was enough to know that he did. His body gently bounced up and down without losing contact to the mattress that creaked quietly under his weight. 

“Having fun?”

Fenris froze at the sound of Dorian's amused voice who was leaning against the door frame with a towel around his waist and a grin on his lips. How long had he been standing there? A blush rose to Fenris cheeks and he looked away feeling embarrassed. 

“I started to think you had company and there was a different kind of fun going on in here.”

It took Fenris a moment to understand what Dorian was talking about and it only made him blush even more when the penny dropped. 

“Nothing wrong with having fun, my friend. Alone or with company.” he heard Dorian's voice from directly behind him now and he could have sworn there was a seducive undertone in his voice. 

“Also, the bath is now available.” the mage added after a while when Fenris didn't respond. 

The elf just nodded and muttered his thanks before he got up to make his way to the bathroom, again finding more luxury than he was used to. 

***

The next morning Dorian was already gone by the time Fenris had gotten up. There was only as slip of parchment on Dorian's bed with a few short lines on them. Fenris picked it up and looked at the parchment as if he could will it to reveal the words to him if he stared long and hard enough. The fine lines looked elegant and pretty, just like the hand that had written them.

Had Dorian finally decided to leave him, now that he knew Fenris had a place to stay, at least for a while? Had his father come to take him back so quickly? 

Fenris bit his lip, his eyes still fixed on the curving, black lines. Maybe he could ask someone what he had written?

But what if the message was secret and not meant for any outsiders?

Fenris sniffed the parchment and then pressed it to his cheek. He didn't want Dorian to be gone. He had no idea how to live by himself. Before he knew it a silent tear was rolling down his cheek, seeping into the note and smearing the ink. 

Oh no! Fenris stared at the words his tear had deformed. Had he just messed up Dorian's last message to him? 

Fenris pulled himself together and looked around. Dorian's clothes he had hung up to dry were gone. So were his boots. Of course he would not leave naked. He discovered some items form Dorian's backpack that were placed on the ground, but the backpack was gone.

A deep sigh lifted Fenris chest, the air in his lungs trying to fill the emptiness in his heart. Once again his eyes searched the lines for any clue of their meaning. He assumed the short line at the bottom was Dorian's name, but that was just a guess and didn't help much. 

Finally Fenris placed the letter neatly on Dorian's pillow and got himself dressed, unsure what to do with himself. After a moment of thinking about it he practice fighting with a dagger for a while, imagining he was fighting off Danarius' men until he was sweaty. 

He washed himself, then cleaned the bathroom and finally checked his almost try clothes again before he put them back on. Still no sign of Dorian. The room seemed somehow enourmously large and empty to him and at the same time like a small although comfortable prison cell.

Suddenly he heard a creak as the door opened and in a split second Fenris had grabbed his sword and was facing the door only to find a rather confused, handsome mage enter.

Fenris stared at him and his large sword clattered to the ground. “Dorian!” 

“What happened? Are you okay?” Dorian asked concerned and closed the door behind him after placing the bags he was carrying on the floor. 

“I thought...” Fenris stammered looked to the parchment on the pillow and back to Dorian. 

“But I told you that I was out on the market. I didn't want to wake you up.” 

What a fool he had been, thinking this writing could only mean Dorian had left him for good. All morning he had worried without reason. Fenris stepped closer and wrapped his arms around Dorian, still taken by the emotion of having him back.

“Oh, come now. Did you miss me that much?” Dorian chuckled patting his head. 

“Next time, please wake me up.” Fenris whispered into his robes and then Dorian finally realised his mistake. 

“Maker, of course! I'm such a fool. I'm so used to having you around that I sometimes forget about your past as a slave.” 

Fenris pressed himself even closer against the mage. Did Dorian really see him as that much of a free man?

Once Fenris had peeled himself away from Dorian the mage leaned down to one of his bags and then held out an apple for Fenris. 

“Will you accept this as my apology?”

Fenris beamed at him with joy. “Thank you!” Fenris said with a firm nod. 

Had Dorian known how much he loved them? He had always assumed apples were rather expensive since they had been a rare reward for completing extremely hard tasks. Fenris still had no concept for prices and hoped Dorian hadn't spend too much on this fruit for him. With great delight Fenris munched away on his apple, enjoying the sweat-sour flavour and soon Dorian sat down beside him to have some bread and cheese.

A happy sigh escaped Fenris throat as he had finished every last bit of the fruit and he leaned his head against Dorian's shoulder. The mage briefly glanced at him with a smile and together they simply sat in silcene, enjoying the moment of togetherness.


	12. Hunted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments and kudos so far! This is what keeps me going although this chapter took some time...  
> Sorry for the long wait but finally here is the next chapter!
> 
> Warning: There is more game-typical violence in this chapter.

Nearly a week had past since their arrival in Marothius and the weather had improved considerably. Dorian spent a lot of his time in the local library. Maker knew what mages did in there with all those books. Fenris was often unsure what to do with himself. He was not used to having so much free time alone. Dorian had advised him against offering his skills as a mercenary swordsman as long as they were in Tevinter and there was just so much practice and cleaning one could do to pass time.

Not being able to do much else for Dorian and simply spending his money without serving him felt wrong. Yet Dorian kept insisting that Fenris should carry a little coin so he could get food and drink when the mage wasn't around. 

Whenever he asked Dorian what he could do for him while he was gone the mage declined with a cheerful smile and told him to enjoy his free time. The problem was that Fenris had barely any idea how to enjoy himself. Even hopping on the bed or simply lying on the soft sheets couldn't keep him entertained forever. Dorian only meant well, but leaving Fenris without any tasks didn't do him any good. It was frustrating him to have time he didn't know what to do with. 

For the fifth time that day Fenris went down to the stables to check on their horses, to feed them, brush them and most of all to have some company. He had grown rather fond of his white mare and liked stroking her long, soft nose. To him she was as beautiful as any animal could be, so gentle and very much unlike the wild beasts in the Seheron jungle. She may have been just a horse, but to Fenris she was his Halla, his noble beast to ride, his friend and companion. For lack of a better name, that was what he had started calling her and his horse didn't seem to mind her name. 

He wondered how much she actually looked like a real halla, since he had never seen one and only knew very little from a story he had overheard from another slave. 

Today however, after spending some time in the stable his mare started to get uneasy and seemed almost anxious. Fenris had a hard time keeping her under control. He gently talked to her and stroked her, but she kept neighing and restlessly moved back and forth in her box. Fenris wasn't sure what had suddenly gotten into her. He looked around to see what might be disturbing her and even checked her hooves but couldn't find anything unusual. Finally turning back to her to stroke her nose again she mysteriously calmed down almost as quickly as she had started. 

The elf was more than confused by her behaviour and for a while Fenris kept stroking her reassuringly, showing her that there was nothing to worry about. He had no idea what had cause that sudden mood-swing but finally decided to shrug it off. When he was sure she was fine, he gave her a small treat and then returned to their room to see if Dorian was back. 

Since that afternoon in the stables Fenris couldn't shake off the feeling that he was being watched but couldn't really spot anyone suspicious either. At first he had tried to ignore the feeling and told himself he was just paranoid because of his fear that Danarius would come to get him.

But it wasn't just that odd feeling. Fenris kept hearing noises that made him feel uneasy, the people in the tavern looked at him in an unsettling and quiet way but he couldn't figure out what exactly was going on. 

In attempt to distract himself Fenris had gone out to the market. A hood pulled over his head to cover his white hair and elven features he walked around the stalls looking for food to share with Dorian in the evening. Dorian had taught him a few basic things about numbers. Fenris had only received a handful of silvers and a few copper coins so he was limited in the things he could purchase. Nevertheless he enjoyed looking at the goods and finding out what he would or would not be able to purchase. 

Finally he had approached a fruit stall and asked for a single apple. The merchant had looked at him a little confused, thinking Fenris might make a stupid attempt to steal something but as he saw Fenris producing the coins from his pocket he hadn't asked any further questions and simply stated his price for the piece of fruit. 

At the beginning Fenris had trouble trying to compare items and understanding values at all because so far in his life coins hadn't really meant anything to him. But then he had made apples the basic point of comparison. One apple for a bottle of milk, 2 and a bit for a loaf of bread, 3 for an ale, 15 for a simple wine that Dorian liked. He had tried to figure out how many apples one could buy instead of a pair of boots but had given up and decided he could not carry so many apples and didn't wear boots anyway. He wondered how many apples the room they stayed in was worth a night.

Having purchased a small snack for Dorian and an apple for himself he moved to a more quiet area and took a bite from the fruit in his hand. Still chewing happily he noticed a man he had seen several times since he had come to the market. He didn't look too special, well build, smooth, black hair that was a little shorter than his own, the shade of a beard around his chin. He wore the maroon uniform of a Tevinter soldier with rich, golden décor and a crossbow on his back. 

At first the man had just seemed to be one of the many people on the market, but now that he thought about it, it was rather unusual how many times their path had crossed. 

Feeling a little uneasy, Fenris moved on before he had finished his apple, just to find that the man was still trailing behind although with a bigger distance between them. Fenris had not done anything wrong, yet he disliked the feeling that man gave him. Well, to be fair he was a runaway slave, but how would that man know? The elf walked a little faster into the general direction of the inn. His follower did the same. 

Fenris moved around the next corner and then dashed off as soon as he was out of his follower's sight. Then took a right turn into a small alley. It seemed like the man was now full speed chasing him but he had a fair bit of ground to catch up on. 

The elf continued running, his hood falling off his head, revealing all this significant features but Fenris knew he shouldn't stop now. He had the feeling the man was following him even faster now that his ears and hair were visible. Maybe the man was a slaver? Or worse, a paid slave hunter? It didn't really matter why he was hunting Fenris. He knew he had to escape.

Taking an unusual route back to the inn through someone's shed, down another small alley and slipping between two houses build way too close to each other was a bit of a gamble but the elf squeezed through. He briefly clung to a passing cart, before hopping off and jumping over several large crates before he made a final sprint towards a quite area and then casually walked on, his hood covering his head again, trying to steady his breath in an attempt to act normal as he strolled towards the inn.

As he was about to turn around another corner when a different man in similar maroon clothing almost bumped into him and pulled him to the ground. Fenris growled and tried to push him off, but as the man pressed a dagger against his throat Fenris' lyrium flared up and without losing another second he sank his fist into the attacker's chest to rip out his beating heart. The body went limb, the dagger clattering to the ground. 

Panting Fenris scrambled away from the dead body and now was on the run again, leaving the dumbstruck onlookers behind. But the luck seemed to be on his side this time as he managed his way back to the inn without another incident although he received several sceptical and disproving locks when people spotted the blood on his hand. 

Sure that Fenris had managed to give his hunters a slip he returned the their little room in the inn. Feeling now rather proud of himself his lips curled into a small grin which quickly vanished the moment he entered their room.

The room was a mess. Most of their belongings gone, the rest scattered around the floor. What had happened?  
Had the same people who had chased him been here as well? Fenris' eyes darted around to analyse the situation. Their spare clothes had been shredded to pieces, a few items were scattered across the floor but the most of their luggage had been taken. Or maybe a simple robbery? 

Either way this place was no longer safe and neither was Dorian if he were to stay with him. Suddenly the window shattered and a crossbow bolt struck the hardwood floor in front of his feet. If it hadn't been for a creak from the direction on the door that had made Fenris jump to the side of the door frame he wasn't sure if he would have been able to avoid the attack. 

Fenris heart was racing madly in his chest as he heard approaching footsteps. What should he do? Jump out of the window and risk being shot? Or take on the attacker who would enter through the door? At least with the second one he had the element of surprise on his side. Another creak as the pair of feet stopped in front of the door and as soon as the door swung open Fenris' ghost-like fist shot into the surprised man's chest. 

“F-Fenris... what...?” stammered the mage with wide eyes, not daring to move. 

“Dorian!?” replied Fenris surprised but also relieved and immediately pulled back his hand. “We have to go. Now.” the elf said with an alarmed voice but was glad to see Dorian. There was no time for further explanation.

Within seconds the two had gathered what they could salvage, but before they could leave three more man in maroon and gold were now blocking the door, armed with swords and shields. 

“What in the void has happened?” Dorian demanded to know from his companion. 

“No time.” the elf replied, facing the new intruders. 

“Who sent you?” asked Dorian, his staff pointed at their enemies. In the blink of an eye his Winter's Grasp had immobilised two of them while the third had jumped ahead to attack Fenris. The elf evaded the first blow. A second strike fell and left a small cut on his cheek before the elf had snatched a dagger from the warrior's belt and plunged it straight into the man's heart. 

“Who sent you?” Dorian repeated again threatening the remaining two with his staff. 

“Kill them!” Fenris growled and ripped out another heart before he shot another glance towards the window. “Go!” the elf warned and pushed Dorian out of the door past the remaining frozen man before a pained cry escaped his throat.

“Fenris!”

Dorian conjured another ice barrier in front of the window before he dashed back to get the elf to safety. 

“I'm fine.” the elf growled as he saw Dorian's worried look and gritting his teeth he pulled the bolt from his shoulder unable to suppress another pained cry. “Get the horses!” Fenris demanded. He knew he was slowing them down and there was no time to lose. 

Dorian hesitated but when Fenris let his lyrium flare up again he nodded and rushed ahead to get the horses ready. 

“Silly, little Slave. Danarius won't be happy to hear his pet already found a new Master.” the man with a crossbow taunted. 

“So _HE_ sent you!” Fenris concluded and charged for another attack. 

“Did you think he'd just let you go?” the black haired hunter laughed, now coming at Fenris with two daggers. “You are pathetic!” he taunted, attacking the elf from his injured left side. 

Fenris couldn't do more than evade his strikes. The man was fast and the injured shoulder was a clear disadvantage. 

“I will not go back!” Fenris growled, his stolen dagger pointing at his opponent.

“That's not for you to decide!” 

“Well, then I guess it's up to me to choose.” echoed Dorian's voice as he cast another spell to immobilise the enemy rogue. Fenris rushed closer to slit the man's throat and the man sank to the ground. 

As Fenris was clumsily climbing onto his horse he saw another man rush to the rogue's side to heal the cut and free him from Dorian's spell, but there was no time to stop and finish them off. Dorian urged the horses on and together they rushed towards the city gates. A glance over Dorian's shoulder told him that there were even more men after them, but the two had made their escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is in reference to "A Short Story" by David Gaider  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iRyb-RyQ1Ko


	13. Not for Sale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've been following my story and have already read chapter 12 before I uploaded Chapter 13 - I've added a new illustration to the last chapter ;)

Their horses had swiftly carried them south and enjoyed the free run after such a long time in the stables. They had covered several miles along the foot of the mountain-range until nightfall made in more difficult to continue safely. 

Fenris had remained silent to bite back the increasing pain in his left shoulder until they had finally come to a halt. 

“Why are you still with me?” the elf asked quietly and his hesitant words seemed like shouts in the silent darkness. The pain in his shoulder had become almost too much to bear as he slipped off his mare's back and his blood-soaked clothes made him shiver a little.

“Why? What kind of question is that?” Dorian replied, his voice more mocking than intended and he saw how the elf tried to make himself even smaller. “Fenris, I thought it was clear by now that we are friends.” he chuckled and stepped a little closer once he had tied the horses to a small tree. 

“F-friends...?” Fenris repeated slowly as if he was trying to taste the word by letting it linger on his tongue. He had learnt what the word meant while they had lived in Seheron but Fenris still couldn't grasp how an altus could call him that. 

Dorian gave him a soft smile and nodded before he noticed Fenris shoulder. 

“Maker! Why didn't you ask me to stop earlier?” the mage scolded him concerned.

“They may have followed us...” Fenris answered meekly. “Your are putting yourself in danger by staying with me.” he insisted. “They will come again for me and they will hurt you, too.”

Dorian only listened with one ear as he busied himself ripping off a long strip off his robes the way he had the day they had met. 

“Take off your clothes.” the mage commanded before Fenris could decline any help and ignored his friend's warning. Dorian's tone of voice had Fenris follow his orders without question although he had difficulties to undress his upper body without causing additional pain in his shoulder. 

Dorian gently helped him out of his clothes and how could he complain assisting such a pretty man to undress? 

Fenris quietly gritted his teeth as Dorian proceeded to wash the wound with fresh water from a cold nearby stream that came from the mountains. The mage wished he would know more about healing magic to simply close the wound, but for now his chewed elfroot mash and makeshift bandage would have to do the trick. 

“You shouldn't help me. Maybe next time you are the one who gets injured.” Fenris said, his voice and eyes filled with guilt.

“Hush now. Do I look like someone who would let such amateurs hurt me?” Dorian chuckled to lighten the mood but noticed that he was insulting Fenris' skills in the same breath. “I didn't mean it like that!” he quickly explained. “If we'd been together against them from the start, the wouldn't have stood a chance!” he said with confidence. 

“But...” Fenris started but was immediately interrupted by a soft finger that was gently placed on his lips. 

“If you want to worry about something, I'd appreciate if it were thoughts on what to have for dinner.” 

Fenris let his head sink in shame. If it hadn't been for him, Dorian would be able to enjoy a rich dinner somewhere in a comfortable and warm place right now. “I'm sorry.” he murmured before he suddenly remembered something. With a shy smile he produced the now very crumbled snack he had purchased for Dorian earlier that day and offered it to the mage with a hopeful smile. 

“You are incredible.” Dorian chuckled and took the food from his hand to separate it into two halves before he handed one half back to a stunned looking Fenris. 

“But...“ Fenris started again. 

„Uh-uh. I don't want to hear any false modesty. You are injured and need to heal. Eat.” Dorian said and took a bite. “And if I hear a word of protest, I'll make you eat my half, too.” he warned. 

That gentle thread seemed to work as the elf quietly started to eat as well. 

“Sadly I don't think we should risk a fire tonight, if they are really on our trail.” Dorian sighed. 

Fenris nodded in silent agreement, still overwhelmed by Dorian's care for him.

„A shame really how much they have stolen and destroyed.” the mage lamented. “But we should be able to reach a village tomorrow.” Dorian was glad that they still had one water-skin which he refilled and carefully heated with magic so the water was no longer freezing cold. 

Fenris drank without resistance, but soon exhaustion and his injury claimed their toll and he was no longer able to fight off his sleep. He had laid down in the grass, seeking shelter at the lee side of the low bushes that grew in the area.

Dorian put up a few protection wards before he huddled close to Fenris, pulling him gently into his arms, so his clothes could provide extra comfort for both and his magic could keep them warm. The fine lines on Fenris' skin glowed dimly in dark and had caused the elf initial discomfort, but the magical warmth outweight the tingling of his lyrium and soon he was in deep sleep again.

The mage watched over him for a long time and smiled slightly to himself, enjoying feeling of his companion in his arms. Smiling to himself the mage listened to the steady breath of the man in his arms. Even out here in the wilderness he couldn't have felt any happier. Careful not to wake Fenris he placed a little kiss onto the white hair, enjoying the comforting smell of lyrium. 

Dorian almost couldn't believe how much he had changed since he had recklessly jumped off that ship to save a handsome, drowning elf. Fenris truly was a wonder which had unexpectedly entered his life to lead him on a new path. 

***

The elfroot had helped better than both had thought and by the time they reached the village by noon next day the wound on Fenris' shoulder was almost closed. 

The village was so small it didn't even have a proper tavern or inn. It's inhabitants were simple farmers, so far removed from Tevinter politics and busy with their daily lives that you could have easily mistaken them for Fereldeners. None of them could have afforded to keep a slave and seeing Fenris' unusual markings they believed him to be a Dalish. Dorian had quickly shushed Fenris into silence when the idea had first been brought up because this lie was simply a lot safer than the truth of him being a hunted slave. Dorian assumed the reward for capturing Fenris could have probably fed the whole village for a year. 

Fenris often just trailed behind Dorian with the horses, leaving all talk to the mage. Much to Dorian's dislike it turned out that the only decent accommodation the village had to offer for travellers was currently occupied by a travelling merchant form Orlais and his assistants. 

Quietly grumbling to himself Dorian had accepted the offer to sleep in a barn that was only half filled with hay for the winter months. 

“I love the smell.” Fenris told him with a small smiled as he lied down in the hay with clearly more excitement than the mage. “It feels... I don't know... like it reminds me of something.” Fenris mentioned, resting his head on Dorian's chest. “But I don't think I've slept in hay before...”

Dorian stroked the soft, white hair. “Maybe you've forgotten.” he suggested. “Doesn't it scratch on your skin?”

“It tingles a bit.” Fenris agreed. 

“Let me see your shoulder again.” Dorian demanded so he wouldn't start to argue about the comfort – or lack their-of their accommodation had to offer.

Fenris undressed and removed the bandage. “I'm sorry.” he apologised again. 

“It's almost healed. No need to apologise for anything.” 

“But your robes...”

“They'll be out of fashion come fall anyway so don't worry your little heart too much.”

Fenris was unsure what to reply to that and just nuzzled into Dorian's chest again. The mage chuckled quietly about the response and wrapped one arm around him. He was pleased about the healing progress and hoped it wouldn't cause any more trouble by the time he had procured new supplies and hopefully before the slave hunters had found them. 

Once again Fenris slept in Dorian's arms, getting more comfortable about proximity to the mage and Dorian wouldn't have had it any other way. Holding the smaller man in his arms made the whole itchy-hay-business more tolerable for Dorian and if he was honest to himself, it was a lot warmer and more comfortable here than under the open sky.

While Fenris was tending to their horses and otherwise instructed to rest his shoulder the next day, Dorian went to speak to the farmers to buy food and get new clothes from one or the other, although this was anything but the latest fashion. Internally the mage scoffed at the fashion disasters but hoped with a bit of his touch their new clothes wouldn't look quite as bad on them. 

The struggle that he couldn't get all the things he wanted or what they would need to travel further didn't derive only from lack of availability in this village but also lack of coin on his end. 

He didn't want Fenris to worry about this, but what was he supposed to do? He couldn't sell their horses and Fenris would probably hate him eternally if he were to take Halla away from him, but what else he had possessed of value had been stolen or damaged when they had been raided in Marothius.

Suddenly Dorian had a brilliant idea. Maybe he could charm the foreign merchant into “lending” him money and make him re-claim it from his father. Yes, it would leave a clear trace of the direction in which Dorian had travelled but it was worth a try. What did he have to lose besides whatever respect his father may have had left for him? 

Already feeling triumphant Dorian marched off to find the merchant, putting on his prettiest smile. 

Dorian started with a few compliments in Orlesian, followed by a long chit chat in the common tongue, asked about the merchant's travels and listened to him with as much interest as he could muster, before he finally proposed his idea, followed by tales about how much profit he could make in Qarinus. 

The Orlesian was no fool and neither was he a stranger to the name Pavus. Slowly and without raising Dorian's suspicion he pushed the mage into admitting how desperately he needed the money.  
Meanwhile Dorian had been careful to avoid the true reasons of their voyage and who Fenris actually was or why they had to continue without much more delay and in doing so had given the merchant all the weapons he needed to get something worthwhile from the mage. 

“But it's still just the word of a stranger. How could I trust that you are truly Magister Pavus' son?”

Dorian's hand slipped beneath his collar to pull out a necklace with a golden pendant, reminiscent of two snakes and richly decorated with ornate features and gems. “Is this proof enough?” Dorian asked calmly, but still feeling certain of success.

The Orlesian gave it an appraising look and then nodded followed by a long pause. “Yet I am a simple merchant. How could you ensure your father is going to honour our little business, even if you were to write a letter?”

Dorian hadn't seen that sudden change coming and was short of good counter arguments. “I'm dealing with various products and goods, not promises and certificates of debt. If you want the money, I will need something valuable in return.” he said sternly. 

“But I've already told you that most of what we had was stolen.”

“So you did. _Most_ things stolen and only a few items still in your possession...”

“And I can not sell our horses.”

“I did not ask for your horses.” the merchant chuckled. 

“But what else could I possibly offer?” Dorian asked, now sounding desperate.

“You possess something of great value and I'm willing to pay a good price for it.” the Orlesian now started his counter offer and Dorian's heart almost stopped at his words. 

Fenris. For no coin in the world would he sell him to the merchant. 

“He's not for sale!” Dorian snapped angrily.

For a second confusion lingered on the salesman's face before he laughed heartily. “I knew the rabbit couldn't be a Dalish, but I was not referring to your slave, I was speaking about this.” he said and pointed at the pendant still hanging around Dorian's neck. 

The Tevinter was dumbstruck, unsure if he should be angry about him insulting Fenris, relieved that the merchant didn't want to buy his friend or just... well, he didn't even know how to feel about the idea of selling his birthright to anyone. 

The merchant waited patiently for a response although he stressed again that he was only willing to give him money for a physical item in exchange. 

Dorian felt cornered and only now realised how he had unknowingly played into the hands of the merchant. He needed the money if he didn't want Fenris and him to starve or freeze. 

On the other hand, what good was the Pavus birthright actually still to him? _'You are no son of mine!'_ his father had said and he knew he had meant it. Part of him almost wanted to give it away while his strict tevinter upbringing had taught him that a birthright was something powerful that should never be passed on to someone outside of the bloodline. But he was planning to Tevinter, his father had practically already disowned him and with all the merchant had to offer he could help Fenris into a better life in freedom. 

With a resigned sigh Dorian lifted the chain over his head and held it out to the Orlesian.

“A wise decision. I will pay you royally.” the merchant replied happily and led Dorian to his wagons to pick whatever he wanted while he filled two large sacks with coins and handed them to the mage. 

“Thank you for your business, Monsieur Pavus.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another bit of canon I wanted to keep in this.
> 
> Also I really like writing fluffy scenes and I hope you like the way I develop their characters and relationship.


	14. Marvel of the Mountains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris and Dorian continue their travels and head to the mountains.

The sun was shining brightly and a fresh breeze coming from the mountains that made it a pleasant morning. It wasn't the usual hot and humid Tevinter weather they were both used to. All the farmers where busy with their daily tasks when Fenris and Dorian where on their way again. 

Fenris shoulder was functional again although not fully healed yet but he had been too restless to remain in the same place any longer. The last thing both of them wanted was being surprised by the slave hunters again or maker-forbid meeting a party sent by Dorian's father.

Now that they had been able to replenish all their supplies Dorian led them out of the village and further south until they turned towards the mountains, following an old trade road and for a while they both just watch the scenery passing by while the mage delighted in light conversation, while it was really more a monologue interrupted by brief acknowledgements or questions from Fenris. 

But now they had changed the gentle sloping hills for a landscape that looked almost unreal. Countless, enormous pillars were rising high above their heads, telling fragments of a story long lost and forgotten. 

“What are they?” ask Fenris, almost afraid to look up to the intimidating structures. 

“We call them the Hundred Pillars. Our fellow countrymen claim to have build them long ago during the most glorious days of the Tevinter empire.” Dorian replied. “But if you ask me, now that I've seen them with my own eyes, they look much older than even that and the material is nothing I have ever seen or heard of before. 

The mage marvelled, his gaze fixed at the peaks of the unusual constructions as they rode past another pillar and he started to wonder if not Tevinter, who else would have had the skill and power to accomplish such a construction.

The pillars were as hard as any stone, if not stronger and yet unlike any rock, nor did they look like any natural stone Dorian had seen or read about. 

“But what _are_ they?” Fenris asked again. “Why would anyone build so many tall pillars with no use?” 

Dorian gazed up at another one of those monumental features, this one with a large crack, the tip broken off and embedded into the ground several feet away. “I... don't know.” the mage admitted. “No one does any more.” he sighed. “I wonder if they once carried a ceiling... although I couldn't imagine anyone would need or want a ceiling that high.” he thought aloud. 

Slowly the horses trotted on as the two men were in awe about the surreal scenery when Fenris suddenly flinched and halted Halla to reach for his sword.

“What's wrong?” the mage asked concerned and grabbed his staff to cast a barrier just in case.

And not a moment too late. An arrow came straight at him but missed it's not so straight target thanks to the spell. Fenris got off his horse to take on the bandits who had been hiding in the rugged terrain and now were closing in from all directions. 

The attackers had hoped for easy pray, maybe a merchant or at least a wealthy noble with his puny slave but they hadn't counted with such skilled resistance.  
Despite being outnumbered by far the two travellers fought relentlessly to keep each other save.

The bandits had lost 3 men by the time they decided that simple travel supplies weren't worth dying for and the rest of them retreated back to their hideout.  
"Are you hurt?" Fenris asked causing the mage to smile "No but thank you" he replied happy to hear that the elf cared for him and Dorian made sure Fenris was unharmed as well before they were on their way again.

A few miles further up Fenris started to shiver a little but didn't want Dorian to worry. "Why are the mountains white" he asked as the horses started to leave noticeable trails in the increasingly deep layer of snow.

Dorian looked slightly irritated at Fenris. "Well the peaks of all high enough mountains are white because it is colder up there."  
"And the cold makes the mountains white?" Fenris assumed.

"Yes... well the snow does." 

Fenris thought about it and hesitated. He still wasn't sure if that meant the white squishy ground was called snow or if there was something or someone called "the snow" causing the ground to change into this bizarre state.  
"Is it ice magic?" he decided to ask although he couldn't feel any indication of magic that would affect his markings.

Now Dorian hesitated himself. " have you never seen snow before?" he asked instead. 

Fenris ducked his head ashamed. "No." he admitted.

"It shouldn't surprise me that much for someone like you" Dorian said "After all Tevinter is a warm country."

Fenris smiled apologetically.

"Snow isn't ice magic unless you call the heat of the sun fire magic." Dorian explained. "But I would assume that mages got the idea for ice magic from mother nature. Snow is pretty interesting isn't it? Do you want to touch it?" 

"Touch it?" the elf asked sceptically.

Dorian flashed him a grin end got off his horse to reach down and scoop up a handful of the white substance. Fenris watched the mage's hands curiously and was not prepared for the ball of snow that Dorian threw at him before the mage burst into a cheerful giggle.

Fenris looked at him in surprise and confusion. 

"Come on try making a snowball!" Dorian called out. "But try to avoid my pretty face if you throw it."

Fenris hesitated but then got off his horse as well to make a snowball but as soon as his feet touch the white ground he shivered.  
"So cold." he noted and lifted one foot and then switched for the other trying to keep them warm. 

Dorian laughed again and went to his horse to fetch a pair of boots he had bought for Fenris. 

"Its wet." Fenris remarked as he bent Down to take some snow in his hands. "It's all melting in my hands, Dorian!" he called out.

"Yes, it's just frozen water." Dorian told him.

"But I thought that would be ice. Why is snow soft?" the elf continued to ask.

Dorian wasn't sure. He looked down at his hands and cast icicle in one hand and a mini blizzard in his other palm. "Hmm... you are very good at asking all the difficult questions." the mage replied. "Snow is indeed softer but I can't say with certainty why."

While the Altus was thinking about the correct answer Fenris had proceeded to form a snowball and threw it at his friend. The act brought a surprising joy to him and the elf giggled quietly to himself.

"Hey!" Dorian complained without seeming too angry and stepped closer to hand Fenris his boots. "Put those on. I don't want you to freeze." he insisted and Fenris did as he was told although having his feet trapped in such a soft container felt strange. 

"See? That's better isn't it?" Dorian remarked letting Fenris test his new boots for a moment before he rubbed a handful of snow into the elf's face.  
The mage retreated to safety and Fenris wanted to pursue him at first but the boots made walking difficult for him and he stumbled lending face first in the snow. He was surprised how much the snow cushioned his fall.

Dorian rushed over to check on him the elf used to that moment to press a handful of snow into Dorian's face. 

"I said not my face!" Dorian whined.

"No. You said not to aim for your face when throwing one." Fenris corrected and hearing that low giggle from him Dorian couldn't possible stay mad, especially knowing the elf was right. 

The two continued their little snowball fight for several minutes until their hands were getting too cold.  
Dorian was delighted to see Fenris so light hearted and joyful although every snowball seemed carefully created and every throw well calculated. 

Dorian finally lifted both hands in surrender and offered peace. Smiling he walked over to the still giggling elf to warm them both up with a little magic. Dorian was careful his spell wouldn't cause any issues with Fenris' lyrium and for a while they sat huddled together to rest and shared a loaf of bread before Dorian urged them to continue as he had no intention to camp up in the mountains.


End file.
